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ALIAS BROWN 



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TtlC A If A 7 AMC ^u-oe in l^ee Acts. Seren soAles, fire fe- 
IIU AIflA£iV/ni3 xnaJee. Oottomee, modern; seenery, cot 
ttfievlt FUjB a full oTenlng. 

•PUC nknmVT UrUICTliD Faroe in Pour Aeta. Ten 
Tllfc CADil1£>l mlrildl&K mal«e, nine females. Ooa 
i, BM>aerD Boelety; eoenwr, tiferee Interiors. PUys a fnll evening- 



|v AmirkV niriT Faroe In Thr^e AetB. Seven xzkales, four fe- 
l/Alll/I 1/ivlW males. OoaCta&ee, modern ; scenery, two inte- 
tlon. PUyi two hours and a half. 

•niC r»AV I ADn niirY C5oraedy in Four Act*. Fonr males, 
lIUi uAI LUlUi VJULA ten femalee. Oostnmes, modern; 
•eeoery, tiro interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. 

HIS HOUSE IN ORDER SSfi&iL^^dJSJm^l^S^ 

•eenery, three interiors. Plays a fnll evenlsg. 

tlMV UADDV UADCr Ckunedy in Three Acta. Twi malee, 
iriti n\JDol nxJRDTt eve females. Ooetnmes, modern; 
■eenery easy. Plays two hoars and a half. 

IDIQ Drama iu Five Acts. Seven males, seven female*. Oostumes, 
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I anV DATTWTIUfTI Play in Four Acts. Eight males, seven 
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I rPrV Drama in Four Acts and an Bpilogne. Ten males, five 
LEil I I females. Costumea, modern; seenery eompUoated. 
Flays a full evening. 

TUC MArKTDAlT Faroe In Tliree Acts. Twelve males, 
inJb niAulO 1 AJ\ 1 £i four femalw. Oostumes, modem; 
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Alias Brown 



A Satirical Farce in Three Acts 



By 

E. J. WHISLER 

Author of '-'-The Private Tutor " 



The professional stage rights in this play are reserved by the 
author, and all persons wishing to produce it publicly and for 
profit should apply for permission to the author in care of the 
publishers. Amateurs may produce it without permission. 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER k CO. 

1914 



Alias Brown fjfi^ 



CHARACTERS 

Mr. James Logan, a young married man. Age about twenty -five. 

Quick tempered. 
Mr. Mortimer, *'Mrs. Mortimers husband'' not subdued, but 

submerged. Age about forty. 
John Brown, a cigar salesman. Age about forty. A practical 

business man with no frills. Somewhat bald and a little gray. 
Vincent Allgood, the hotel clerk ( Nuf ced). 
Montmorency, a bell hop. 
Henry Keeler, a young man of about thirty. A getitleitian of 

leisure, and a good fellow. 
Billy ^Y^NQOViV,, a newspaper reporter. Alert and on the job. 
La Rue, the chief of police. A little heavy mentally, but persistent 

andfaithficl. 
Mr. Thomas Richie, a good-hearted, but weak young fellow, of 

about twenty four. 
Lee Waters, a theatrical manager. Pompous and much inclined 

to run things. 
Rastus, a porter. 
Mary Gilbert, a public stenographer. Age about twenty-five. A 

practical, sensible girl. 
Mrs. Marie Logan, a young married woman. Age about twenty- 
two. 
Mrs. Beatrice Mortimer, an actress. Age about forty-five. 
Mrs. John Brown, about forty years old. Very jnild ntannered, a 

little old fashioned. 
Mrs. Thomas Richie, age about twenty. A flighty little thing, 

frivolous, but affectionate. 



Time. — The present. Place. — Reno, Nevada. 

Act L The hotel office. 8:30 a. m. 

Act n. The hotel parlor. 6:00 p. m., the same day. 

Act IIL The office. The next morning. 




TMP92-007523 



Copyright, 19 14, by E. J. Whisler 

As author and proprietor 



All rights reserved 

©Cl.D 37869 

AUG i7!9!4 



Alias Brown 



ACT I 

SCENE. — The lobby of a hotel in JRe7io, Nevada. Down r, 
is a door with a frosted glass in the upper panel, bearing the 
word ^^ Bar'' Up stage r. is the office of the hotel , with 
the usual appurtenances of such a place behifid the counter. 
R. c. of back flat is the entrance to the hotel ; large double 
doors ; street backing. Running down stage C. is a series 
of pillars, around the base of which are built upholstered 
circular seats. The pillars serve to in a ?neasure separate 
the left from the right side of the stage, the left side being 
heavily carpeted, a?id furnished with majiy easy chairs and 
one or two tvriting-tables, palms, etc. At the extreme left is 
a stairway, beginning doivn stage and run?iing up to a bal- 
cony at the back. Under the stairway is a set of very wide 
doors, built like French windows, leading to the dining-room, 
which can be seen through the doors. Left, near the foot of 
the stairs, stands a typeivriter desk, closed, a chair behind 
it. A sign hangifig on the desk reads ' ' Public Stenographer. ' ' 
The clock on the wall stands at 8:jo. 

{At rise of curtain Vincent Allgood, the hotel clerk, is 
standing behind the office counter, pigeonholing the morn- 
ing mail for the guests, while a number of men in the bar 
off R. sing ^' Oh, Gee, Pm glad I'm free / No wedding 
bells for me f") 

Mr. Thomas Richie (off r.). Again ! 
The Men {singing). 

Oh, Gee, I'm glad I'm free ! 
No wedding bells for me ! 

Richie (off r.). Fill 'em up again, barkeep, fill 'em up! 
This is my li'll party ! 



4 ALIAS BROWN 

{The chink of glasses comes faiiitlyfroin the bar. Mary 
Gilbert appears on the balcony and comes down the stairs. 
She crosses to c, and stands ^ listeiiing, afroivn 07i her 
face.) 

A Man's Voice (off'R.). What's the matter with Richie? 
The Others. He's all right ! 
The Voice. Who's all right? 
The Others. Richie ! 
The Voice. Why ? 

The Others. He's got his divorce, he's got his divorce, 
he's got his divorce, hurrah ! Hurrah ! Rah, rah, rah ! 
Richie (off r.). Sing it again, fellows. 
The Men (singi?ig). 

Oh, Gee, I'm glad I'm free ! 
No wedding bells for me ! 

ViN. Good-morning, Miss Gilbert. 

Mary (shortly). Good -morning. 

ViN. You're late this morning. 

Mary (indifferently). Am I? 

ViN. Yes, half an hour. 

Mary. When did you become manager of this hotel ? 

ViN. I'm not the manager. 

Mary. Oh, you're not ! Then suppose you leave the 
manager's affairs alone. I report to him. 

ViN. My, look at the hair in grandma's soup ! We must 
have been out last night. 

Mary. No, I wasn't out last night ! 

ViN. Well, you've got a morning after grouch, all right. 

The Men (off r., singing). 

Oh, Gee, I'm glad I'm free I 
No wedding bells for me ! 

Mary. Who wouldn't have a grouch after listening to that 
all night ? That bunch has been singing that thing ever since 
six o'clock last evening. 

ViN. Well, what of it ? 

Mary. My room is right over the bar. I didn't get an 
hour's sleep all night. Somebody got a divorce yesterday, I 
suppose. 

(Crosses to desk L. and Ifts top, revealing a typeivriter.) 



ALIAS BROWN 5 

ViN. Yes, Mr. Richie, and 1 think you're mighty mean to 
begrudge him his little celebration. 

Mary. Mr. Allgood, nearly every day somebody is granted 
a divorce in this town ; the result is that there's a celebration 
under my room nearly every night. 

ViN. Believe me, in most cases it's been earned. 

Mary. The singular fact about it is that it's always the 
man who does the celebrating. 

ViN. There's nothing singular about that. The chances 
are that it's the first opportunity the poor devil's had since he 
was married. 

Enter KicuiE from bary r. He is happily intoxicated, 

Richie. Morning, everybody ! 

ViN. Good-morning, Mr. Richie. 

Richie. Did you hear th' goo' news ? 

ViN. What news ? 

Richie. Got m' d'vorce yesterday. 'M a single man now. 
Been celebrating. 

ViN. {dryly). So I see. 

Richie. Up all night. 'Sturb you ? 

Mary. You kept me awake all night. 

Richie. Tha's too bad. 'M awfully sorry. You couldn't 
sleep 'tall ? 

Mary. Not a wink. 

Richie. Well, why didn't you come down ? We had a fine 
time ! 

Mary. Oh, don't talk to me ! 

Richie (crossing to l. c). I beg your pardon ? 

Mary. I say, don't talk to me. 

Richie. You know, you remin' me of my wife — my ex- 
wife. She nev'r liked my conversation. You know — you 
know, miss, I'm a much abused man. My wife nev'r appre- 
ciated me. 

Mary (bitterly). No, I suppose not. You poor men are 
always misunderstood ! 

Richie (misunderstanding her — in maudlin self-pity^. Don' 
pity me. Lemme suffer in silence. Some day she'll 'preciate 
my true worth — then she'll be sorry. And then, what'll /do? 

(Strikes his chest.) 
Mary. I don't know, and I don't care to know. 



6 ALIAS BROWN 

Richie. You're just like all women; you're heartless. 
You have no sympathy for suffering humanity. 

Mary {rising^. Mr. Allgood, I'm going in to get some- 
thing to eat. If the manager should ask for me, tell him I'm 
at breakfast. \^Exit into dining-room^ L. 

Richie {crossing to counter). Shay, I shink I ought to 
have a li'll sleep. Got a room ? 

ViN. I can give you the bridal suite, 

Richie. Shay, I wanna room ; don' care where it is, but 
it's got to be a {bringijig hand down on counter') single room. 

ViN. All right. Twenty-three for you. 

Richie. Wha's that? 

ViN. Room 23. 

Richie. Oh. All ri'. 

ViN. {ringing bell. E?iter Montmorency. Vin. gives 
key to Mont.). Show this gentleman to ''23." 

(Mont, with a vast amount of difficulty gets Richie up the 
stairs and exits L.) 

Enter Henry Keeler, d. f. He carries a couple of grips. 

He is of average height, heavily built, and perpetually 

exudes good fellowship. He wears a smcill inilitary 
mustache. 

Keel. Well, son, I've been on my way to Reno, and now 
I have arrived. 

Vin. So I see. Welcome 

Keel. To our bustling little city. Can I get a room ? 

Vin. {a?ixioiis to please). Yes, indeed, sir. 

Keel. I like your line of talk. They were full at the good 
hotel, up street. 

Vin. I can give you the bridal suite, sir. 

Keel. Son, you couldn't give me the bridal suite as a gift. 
I'm a single man. 

Vin. I know, sir, but 

Keel. I'm not taking any chances. 

Vin. How would you like a room with a southern ex- 
posure ? 

Keel. To tell you the truth, the one thing I want to avoid 
is exposure of any kind. 

Vin. I'll give you 22. 

Keel. All right. Anything but 4, 11 or 44. They are 
my unlucky numbers. 



ALIAS BROWN 7 

ViN. {pushing register around^. Will you register, 
Mr. ? 

Keel. Oh, yes. My name is {Fumbles in his pock- 
ets and brings out a handful of cards. Looks at one of them^ 
reads.) Brown. Mr. John Brown. If you don't believe it, 
there's my card. {Hands card to Vin.) I'm a cigar drum- 
mer. Have a sample. 

{Takes ha7idful of cigars from pocket and forces one of them 
into ViN.'s mouth. Vin. takes it out and sputters. ) 

Vin. Thank you, I don't smoke. (Keel, reaches for the 

cigar ; Vin. puts it in his vest pocket.) But my brother does. 

Keel. Son, you're all right ! Here's one for your father. 

{Hands Vin. another cigar.) 

Vin. Thank you, sir. 

Keel. You're welcome. The firm pays for them. 

Vin. What firm are you with ? 

Keel. What firm? {Takes a card from his pocket and 
reads it.) Stonehouse & Madison, Importers. Where's the 
barber shop ? I need a shave. 

Vin, {pointing to door r.). Right through the bar. 

Keel. Do you have to go through the bar to get to the 
barber shop ? 

Vin. Yes, sir, unless you enter from the street. 

Keel. Say, that's fine — that's fine ! Son, I can see right 
now that I'm going to get shaved every fifteen minutes while 
I'm here. Send my bags up, will you ? 

{Exit Keel. d. r. to bar. Vin. rings bell. Mont, comes 
down stairs. Vin. hands him key.) 

Vin. Take these bags to 22. (Mont, takes bags tip-stairs 
and exits l. A crash off stage.) What on earth is that ? 
{Rushes out from behind counter. Enter Richie, d. f. Hts 
clothing is disarranged a?id dusty, as from a fall.) Where 
did you come from ? 

Richie {waving his hand toward street door). Out there. 

Vin. But I thought you went up-stairs. 

Richie. Did. 

Vin. Then how did you ever get outside ? 

Richie. Fell off th' porch roof. 

Vin. What were you doing there ? 



8 ALIAS BROWN 

Richie. Raising th' window in my room. 

ViN. From the outside ? 

Richie. Sure. It's close in that room. But I'm little 
Willie Wise and I knew if people saw me raise that window 
from the inside they'd think 1 was drunk an' needed fr'sh air. 

ViN. Well ? 

Richie. So I says to m'self, I'll raise it from th' outside, 
an' they'll nev'r know. 

ViN. Do you want to go up-stairs again ? 

Richie. No, s'r, not me. I'm down here now, where th* 
pretty li'U breezes blow, and I'm goin' to stay. 

(^Drops on to the circular seat surrounding one of the 
pillars^ up stage.) 

Enter Billy Newcomb, d. f. 

Billy. Morning, Allgood. 

ViN. Good- morning, Mr. Newcomb. 

Billy. Got a story for me this morning ? 

ViN. I'm afraid not. 

Billy. Man, man, you've simply got to give me something. 
News are scarce. We only have one good story to-day. 

ViN. What is it? 

Billy. Bunch of sports tried to pull off a prize-fight at 
Sacramento last night, and the whole outfit was pinched. 
Prominent men — big sensation — scare heads. 

ViN. I'm afraid I can't help you 

Richie. Are you looking for news ? 

Billy. I surely am, friend. 

Richie. Well, I've got th' mos' d'lightful piece of news 

Billy. Let us have it. 

Richie. Got my d'vorce yest'day. 

Billy. It looks to me as though that wasn't all you got. 
Did they hand you that package with it ? 

Richie. Frien*, you insult my cap-cap- capacity. This ain't 
package. This's jus' li'll parcel. 

Billy. Any arrivals, Allgood ? 

(Richie curls up on the seat and goes to sleep.') 

ViN. There was a woman registered here yesterday — say, 
you might get a story out of that. 
Billy. What about it ? 
ViN. A Mrs. Brown registered here yesterday. 



ALIAS BROWN 9 

Billy. Mrs., eh ? After a divorce, I suppose? 

ViN. I fancy so. She bears all the earmarks of a broken 
heart. 

Billy. Nothing domg. Why, man, the boss says he'll can 
me if I hand in another divorce story. We haven't run much 
else for the last five years, and the sob sister's worn to a frazzle 
trying to get new twists on the old stuff. 

ViN. You're not going to cut it out, are you? 

Billy. Oh, no, but we're going to run it under "statistics" 
from now on. Where's Miss Gilbert this morning ? 

ViN. In at breakfast, and if you take my advice you'll 
leave her alone. She's got a grouch on a foot thick. 

Billy. What's the matter? 

ViN. You don't mean to tell me you've lived all these 
years and still think a man can understand a woman's moods ! 
Why, they don't understand 'em themselves. 

Enter Mary, d. l. She crosses to typewriter desk down L. 
and sits. 

Mary {cordially). Good -morning, Billy. 

Billy {crossing to her). Good- morning, Mary. Allgood 
lied to me. 

Mary. Still at it, is he ? 

Billy. Yes ; he said that you had a grouch this morning. 

Mary. Oh, that was before breakfast. 

Billy. Feel better now ? 

Mary. M'hm. [Exit Vin., d. f. 

Billy. Got a story for me this morning ? 

Mary. Not a thing, Billy. 

Billy. Gee, the town's dead to-day. Can't get a news 
item anywhere. 

Mary. This old hotel was certainly alive last night. 

Billy. What happened ? 

Mary. Usual thing. Somebody got a divorce and cele- 
brated all night. 

Billy {poi?iting to Richie). Is that the celebrator ? 

Mary (looking). Yes. 

Billy. He's not likely to disturb you now for a while. So 
you can't give me a story ? 

Mary. I'm afraid not, Billy. 

Billy {sitting on the edge of her desk). Then let me tell 
you a story. 



10 ALIAS BROWN 

Mary. Please don't, Biliy. 

Billy. Why ? 

Mary. You know why. We've talked that all over before. 

Billy. I know we have — a dozen times. But I still keep 



hoping 

Mary. Your hopes are useless, Billy. I shall never change 
my mind. 

Billy. Never ? 

Mary. Billy, why can't we be good friends? 

Billy. Because what I feel for you isn't friendship, Mary. 
I love you, I love 

Mary. Billy, please don't. I like you, Billy ; I like you a 
lol, but it can never be more than just liking. 

Billy. Because of my divorce, I suppose ? 

Mary. Yes. 

Billy. But that's all dead and done. Mary, I came here 
five years ago to get my divorce. I've been working here 
steadily ever since, and my standing in the town is unques- 
tioned. You have known me since the day you came here. 
You surely don't think I am like some of the other people you 
see here? 

Mary. No, Billy, you're not. But you don't realize what 
I have seen in this hotel. The seamy side of life is uppermost 
day and night. The people I see here play with their affections 
as though they were toys, to be broken and replaced. I have 
grown so that I despise the very sound of the word "divorce." 

Billy. Mary ! 

Mary. I suppose you think I am puritanical ; perhaps I 
am. I don't think I shall ever marry, but if I do it must be a 
man who comes to me with a clean heart. 

Billy. But, Mary 

Mary. Marriage at its best, Billy, is a horrible gamble. 
And I should be afraid to trust my happiness to a man who 
had tried marriage once — and failed. 

Billy. But if he really loved you ; honestly 

Mary. I couldn't help remembering that he once loved his 
first wife — really and honestly. 

(Richie /a//s off the seat. Climbs back and goes to sleep 
again. ^ 

Billy. I know that the average man is no better than he 
should be, not as good, in fact. But sometimes, Mary, he is 
not wholly responsible for the trouble. 



ALIAS BROWN II 

Mary. Meaning ? 

Billy. That women have also erred. 

Mary. Yes, but ninety-nine times out of a hundred it is 
because of a man. 

Billy. Mary, I never told you the details of my affair, 
did 1? 

Mary. No, Billy, and I don't want you to. 

Billy. But if you knew I think you would see things dif- 
ferently, because you would understand. It wasn't my fault, I 
swear to you ! 

Mary. Billy, I'm sorry you said that. Do you know what 
Mr. Kipling says ? 

*' If she have spoken a word 

Remember thy lips are sealed 
And the brand of the dog is upon him 

By whom is the secret revealed. 
If there be trouble to Herward, 

And a lie of the blackest can clear, 
Lie, while thy lips can move. 

Or a man is alive to hear." 

Billy, if I loved you enough to marry you I would do so, no 
matter what your past had been or what you were, for that is a 
woman's way. But you shouldn't have tried to hide behind 
her skirts. 

Billy. I wasn't trying to do that, Mary. I only wanted 
you to understand, for I love you, I love you. I want you, 
and everything else sinks into insignificance beside that fact. 
Oh, Mary 

Mary. Billy, when I let you talk that way sometimes I let 
myself go and drift away in dreams. And then, suddenly, as 
you talk, it strikes upon my consciousness like a blow, " He 
said that to her once, and meant it." If that love died, what 
assurance have I that this one won't ? 

Billy. But this love is real. 

Mary. We always think that, Billy, or we wouldn't take a 
chance. No, I shall stay in the hotel here and grow into a 
crabbed old maid, which, after all, will have its compensation. 

Billy. What is that ? 

Mary. I will never get my name into your paper. Buck 
up, Billy. Smile. We're going to be friends, even if you 



12 ALIAS BROWN 

don't want to. Now you run along, scoop the Argus, and 
come in to-morrow and tell me all about it. 

JEftfer ViN., D. F. Ife goes behind the counter, 

Billy. Good-bye. 

Mary. Good-bye, Billy. {He starts out.) Billy ! {He 
comes back.) You haven't smiled yet. {He smiles.) That's 
better. Good-bye. \_Exit Billy, d. f. 

{Telephone at desk rings.) 

ViN. {taking down receiver). Hello Yes, this is the 

office Yes, she's here Yes, sir, right away. {Hangs 

up receiver.) Miss Gilbert, the old gent with the rheumatism 
in " 37 " wants some letters written. 

Mary. All right. 

{Picks up 7iote-book and pencil. Goes up stairs and exits R.) 
Enter Lee Waters, d. f. Carries a grip. 

Waters. Is Mrs. Mortimer registered here ? 

ViN. Yes, sir. 

WaterSv Good ! Send up word that her manager, Mr. 
Waters, is here. 

ViN. Yes, sir. {Turns to 'pho?ie.) Hello Mrs. Mor- 
timer? This is the office Your manager, Mr. Waters, is 

here All right. {Turns to Waters.) They'll be right 

down, sir. 

Waters. Good ! {Looks about.) Nice place you have 
here. 

ViN. Yes, sir, we think it's rather nice. 

Waters. Make a good set for a hotel scene. 

ViN. {puzzled). I beg your pardon ? 

Waters. I say, make a good set for a hotel scene. But 
they're done to death lately. Every manager sticks in a hotel 
or cabaret scene somewhere. Got to have something new. 

(Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer come doivn the stairs.) 

Mrs. M. Ah, Mr. Waters, how do you do ? 

Waters. How do you do, Mrs. Mortimer? How are you, 
Mortimer ? Surprised to get my wire? 

Mrs. M. We were not so much surprised at the wire as at 
your request that we meet you at Reno. 



ALIAS BROWN 1 3 

Mr. M. Yes, we commented on it all the way on the train. 

Waters. Peihaps you'll be even more surprised at my 
errand. 

Mrs. M. I hope nothing has gone wrong ? 

Waters. Not yet. 

Mrs. M. Has Sheldon fallen down on my new play ? 

Waters. Mrs. Mortimer, Sheldon never falls down. The 
play will be ready by fall. 

Mrs. M. Then why on earth did you ask us to come to 
Reno ? 

Waters. Mrs. Mortimer, do you know how much money 
I made on you last season ? 

Mrs. M. I haven't the slightest idea. 

Waters. Well, hardly enough to buy a silk hat. 

Mrs. M. {offended). If I haven't been giving satisfaction, 
you can always cancel 

Waters. Nonsense ! Mrs. Mortimer, you've been before 
the public so long that the people have gotten used to you. 
You've built up a regular following but it's highbrow, and 
small. You don't stand 'em up any more, and we've got to 
stand 'em up these days to make a big success. 

Mrs. M. Well? 

Waters. Now, I've been thinking the matter over, and 
I've come to the conclusion that we've got to do some drastic 
advertising on this new show. 

Mrs. M. I'm agreeable. Anything that's dignified and 
not cheap. 

Waters. Oh, my scheme's dignified, all right. And it 
will work, too. It always has. 

Mrs. M. What is it? 

Waters. You've got to divorce Mortimer. 

Mrs. M. } ("'^^'^-)- ^'^^^ ' 

Waters. It's a little sudden, no doubt, but it's a good, 
sensible move. 

Mrs. M. But we are very fond of each other. 

Mr. M. Yes, indeed. 

Waters. That don't make any difference. You were fond 
of your other husbands, but you managed to get along without 



Mrs. M. Mr. Waters, I can't consider sucl 



Waters. Look here, Mrs. Mortimer, you've got to! We 
didn't much more than break even last season and we stand to 



14 ALIAS BROWN 

lose money this year. Competition's keen, the movies are cut- 
ting in on us, and we've got to wake 'em up. 

Mrs. M. Why not ''wake them up" with a worthy pro- 
duction of a good play with a competent cast ? 

Waters. Nothing doing ! People don't go to see the play 
any more. What does the public know about plays, anyhow ? 
They go to see some widely advertised star and get hints on 
the styles. That's one thing I always liked about your work — 
you always was a good dresser. 

Mrs. M. I don't like the idea at all. We've only been 
married about a year, and we were just getting used to each 
other. 

Waters. Of course, it's inconvenient, but 

Mrs. M. And Mortimer is the most satisfactory husband I 
ever had. You can't imagine how useful he is. He is far 
handier than lots of maids I have had, and he keeps the scrap- 
book with my press notices in perfect shape, when I'm on the 
road. 

Mr. M. Yes, Waters, it's a deuced shame. I'm getting 
tired of this constant change, and I hoped we would be able to 
make a go of it, for a few years, at least. 

Waters. But think of the advertising. 

Mrs. M. Oh, it's good advertising, I know. 

Waters. I'll have a big story, with a two-column cut of 
you, in every paper in the country. It'll boom business. 

Mrs. M. But we are notoriously happy — pointed to as a 
striking exception to the rule. What grounds have we ? 

Waters. Easy ! That's my big card. We'll call it in — 
in — what do you call it when one of 'em has a devil of a 
temper ? 

Mr. M. Incompatibility? 

Waters. That's it. Incom — what you said. We'll lay it 
to Mrs. Mortimer's artistic temperament. Mortimer likes pie 
for breakfast and she can't stand for it — or something like 
that. I'll work it for all it's worth in the papers. We've got 
to do something and a divorce makes more talk than anything 
else. 

Mrs. M. Perhaps it would be best. But I shall be awfully 
sorry to lose you, Mortimer. 

Waters. Then it's all settled. I'll see you at dinner and 
we'll arrange the details. \^Exit i?ito bar r. 

Mr. M. Bee, I don't like this at all. We've always gotten 
on well together. 



ALIAS BROWN 15 

Mrs. M. Neither do I. But what can we do ? I've got to 

make a livhig. r „ i 

Mr M. I'm going to be awfully lonesome. 

Mrs. M. Listen. I know the very girl for you. She s not 
very good looking, but she has money. 

Mr. M. But I like you, Bee. 

Mrs M Oh, do be sensible. You'll have to marry some- 
body, and why not her ? She got a divorce only last month, 
and she'll be lonesome too. 

Mr M. What does she look like ? 

Mrs. M. I have her picture in my trunk. Let s go up. 

{They start up stairs.) 

Mr M. This is awfully decent of you. Bee. ^ ^ ^ . 
Mrs. M. It's only fair. You've been a good husband; 
why shouldn't I do something for you ? 

Mr M Just the same, I don't like to leave you. ^ 

Mrs M I know. Maybe we can get married agam, when 

business picks up. C^^O' ^^^^«^- 

Enter Mr. James Logan, d. f. Carries a grip. 

Logan. Can I get a room ? 
ViN. Yes, sir. 

(Swings register about and hands pen to Logan.) 
Logan {writing). Mr. James Logan— a married man, but 
I won't be much longer. 

Vin What kind of a room do you wish, sir ? 

Logan. One that hasn't a "God Bless our Home" sign 

on the wall. 

Vin I can give you the bridal suite, sir. 

Logan. No you can't; not if I know it ! I don't want 
anything that will remind me of my bitter experience. 

Vin. Family trouble, sir? 

Logan. Say, if some shmy serpent in human form crept 
into the bosom of your happy household and with his fangs 
spread the venom of unfaithfuhiess and distrust, would you call 
it ''family trouble " ? 

(Mary co?nes doivn stairs and sits at desk l.) 

Vin. I would, sir. 



l6 ALIAS BROWN 

Logan. All right, then. Put me down as having family 
trouble. Can you recommend a good lawyer ? 

ViN. (^pointing). There's a case full of professional cards. 
(Logan inspects the rack.) Most people seem to prefer the 
lawyers with engraved cards, over the printed ones. 

Logan. Is there a stenographer in this hotel ? 

ViN. Over to your left, sir. 

Logan (crossing to Mary l.). Young lady, will you take 
a let Say, are you married ? 

Mary. Married women, as a rule, don't have to pound the 
typewriter for a living. 

Logan. Then, take my advice and stay single. 

Mary. Thank you. 

Logan. Look at me. I'm a victim of the vilest treachery 
true love has ever known. A year ago I was as happy as a 
basketful of kittens in a sunny spot. To-day I'm a broken- 
hearted man. 

Mary {bored). Did you want to write a letter? 

Logan. On the first anniversary of my married life, the 
first anniversary, mind you, / went home unexpectedly in the 
afternoon to get some papers, and what do you suppose I 
found ? 

Mary. The papers? 

Logan. No, I found a messenger boy leaving the house 
with a note. I took it from him and read it. Here it is. 
{Produces note.) Exhibit **A." {Reads.) <'Mr. John 
Brown, City. {Ope?is e?ivelope, takes out note and reads.) 
My husband will be absent from home all afternoon, so we 
will not be disturbed. Do not fail to come. Marie." I con- 
fronted my wife with the damning evidence, and what do you 
suj:»pose she did? 

Mary. Did you want to write a letter? 

Logan. She laughed at me — me, her loving husband, 
laughed at me. Then, when I refused to see the joke, she 
grew angry. I rushed from the house, sent a coi)y of the in- 
criminating evidence to Mrs. Brown and boarded the train for 
Reno. 

Mary. Did you want to write a letter? 

Logan. And here I am. Now the law shall take its course. 
No wife of mine, I don't care who she is, can carry on an in- 
trigue with a cigar drummer and remain unpunislied. 

Mary. But why make 7}ie suffer? I had nothing to do 
with it. 



ALIAS BROWN I7 

Logan. Have you no sympathy for your fellow man? 

Mary. If 1 sympathized with everybody in this hotel who 
is suing for a divorce, I would be the solution of perpetual 
motion. Now, how about that letter ? 

Logan. Oh, yes. {Dictates; she takes it ofi the machine.) 

" Mrs. James Logan, San Francisco, Cal. Dear Madam " 

No, cut that out. Make it — " Woman : I am in Reno, where 
I told you I would come. Proceedings will be begun as soon 
as possible, and you will be freed to continue your infamous 
intrigue with that despicable scoundrel Brown." Put Brown 

in red ink. "Your broken-hearted husband " No, cut 

that out. Make it: ''Your poor, deluded dupe." That last 
sentence isn't true, for she'll never have Brown if I can help 
it. The first time I get my hands on him, I'll make him look 
as though he had been run through a meat grinder. 

Mary (ha/iding him letter). Two bits, please. 

{He takes letter^ hands her the money, and crosses to desk.) 

Logan. Got a pen? {Takes pe 71 from Vin,, signs letter, 
and seals envelope.') Where is the post-office? 
Vin. Two blocks from here, to your right. 

[Exit Logan, d. f. 

Enter Mrs. John Brown from dining-room, L. She comes 
down L., and sits near Mary. 

Mary. Good-morning, Mrs. Brown. 
Mrs. B. Good-morning, Miss — Miss 



Mary. Gilbert. Did you have a good breakfast ? 

Mrs. B. {on the verge of tears). Every mouthful seemed 
to choke me. It is the first time I have been separated from 
my husband since we were married. 

Mary. But this separation will only make you appreciate 
your home the more when you return. 

Mrs. B. I shall never return ! 

Mary {with a grimace). Oh, another ! I might have 
known. 

Mrs. B. Miss — Miss 

Mary. Gilbert. 

Mrs. B. Miss Gilbert, take my advice and never marry. 

Mary. Thank you for the suggestion. Every guest who 
has registered in this hotel since I've been here has given me 



l8 ALIAS BROWN 

the same advice, so there must be something in it. It's so 

unanimous. 

Mrs. B. Men are deceitful wretches, all of them. 

Mary. Amen ! 

Mrs. B. What do you suppose my husband did ? 

Mary {matter of fact). Made love to another woman. 

Mrs. B. Who told you ? 

Mary. No one. 

Mrs. B. Then how did you know ? 

Mary. Because that's what they all do. 

Mrs. B. I'm afraid you're cynical. 

Mary. Not at all. I'm " wise," that's all. 

Mrs. B. I never mistrusted my husband for a moment. 
He was always tenderness and consideration personified. And 
then suddenly like a sky-rocket in a black heaven, I learned the 
awful truth. 

Mary. And now the stick has come down with a thud. 

Mrs. B. My husband has been having an affair with a Mrs. 
James Logan — the hussy ! 

Mary. How did you discover it ? 

Mrs. B. Mr. Logan intercepted a note she had written my 
husband, and sent me a copy. (^Takes it fro7n purse.') Here 
it is. (Reads.) '*Mr. John Brown, City. My husband will 
be absent from home all afternoon, so we will not be disturbed. 
Do not fail to come. Marie." Wait until I get hold of her ; 
I'll ''Marie" her. 

Mary. Had your husband no explanation to offer ? 

Mrs. B. He left on a trip. He's a cigar salesman. The 
day I received this copy I wrote him that I knew all about his 
unfaithfulness, and was leaving for Reno. Now, I'm going to 
have a divorce. But I dread the scandal and publicity. 

Mary. Don't worry. Divorce is so common here that the 
papers list the decrees like stock quotations or baseball returns. 

Mrs. B. (breaking dowfi). Oh, I am so unhappy ! 

Mary. There, there, never mind. It seems that everybody 
has to go through it once, and it gets to be a habit with others. 
You'll be better off without him, and you may pick a winner 
the next time. 

(She helps Mrs. B. up the stairs and exits L. Richie fails 
off the seat agai?!, then rises to his feet. He is considera- 
bly sobered up by this time. Vin. enters and goes behind 
counter.) 



ALIAS BROWN 1 9 

Richie. Gee, but the water's rough to-uight. That's the 
second time I've fallen out of my berth. 

Enter Keel, from bar^ r. His mustache is gone. 

Keel. Say, clerk, that's some barber shop. The head 
barber can mix up the finest Ramos fizz I 

Richie. Keeler, by all the Gods ! Where did you come 
from? 

Keel. Well, look who's here ! Richie ! Let's have a 
drink ! 

Richie. No, thanks. I had a drink from six o'clock last 
night until eight this morning, and I'm just getting over it. 
Say, you're not married, are you ? 

Keel. I should say not, also nay, and not I. 

Richie. Then, what are you doing in Reno? 

Keel. It's a long story, and a pathetic one, but I'll make 
it as brief as possible. 

Richie. Didn't you use to wear a mustache ? 

Keel. Yes ; just had it shaved off. Girls don't like 'em. 

Richie. Say, Keeler 

Keel. S-s-s-sh ! {Gives a quick glance around.^ Don't 
call me Keeler. 

Richie. It's your name. 

Keel. Was — not is. My name's Brown ; I'm a cigar 
salesman. (Hands Richie a card.) Here's my card. Have 
a sample. (^Forces cigar into Richie's mouth.) 

Richie (^looking at card ; takes agar from mouth, looks at 
it, replaces it ; looks at Keel.). How long have you been in 
that bar ? 

Keel. Just had one drink. 

Richie. Must be the heat, then. 

Keel. Listen attentively and I'll explain. And remember, 
until I give you the word, my name is Brown. Yesterday I 
was in Sacramento. 

Richie. Poor Sacramento. 

Keel. And I got a tip that there was to be a little bout last 
night. Ten dollars a ticket, and a fight to the finish. 

Richie. Did you go ? 

Keel. Why do you interrupt with those needless questions ? 

Richie. Good fight ? 

Keel. While it lasted. But in the fourth round they 
pinched us. 

Richie. No ! 



20 ALIAS BROWN 

Keel. They did, I tell you. I ought to know. I was one 
of the pinchees. They took our names, and I was so excited I 
gave my real name. 

Richie. You need a nurse ! 

Keel. They marched us to the police station. Just as we 
passed the railroad station, I saw a train standing there. I 
ducked into an alley. They chased me, but I got away, jumped 
on the train, which was then pulling out, and this morning I 
found myself in Reno. 

Richie. Safe ! 

Keel. Not by a damned sight ! They have a purity cam- 
paign on in Sacramento, and I'll have to stay under cover un- 
til this thing dies down. But, believe me, I'm the original 
wise one. On the train I met a cigar drummer by the name of 
Brown. He fell asleep ; I borrowed some of his cards, bought 
a box of cigars this morning, had my mustache shaved off, and 

now I'm a cigar salesman. Have a sam Oh, I gave you 

one, didn't I? Now, so long as I remain Brown I shall be free 
from all trouble. So remember, from now on my name is 
Brown. (Mary comes dow?i stairs and sits at her desk.) 
You'd better come and have a drink. 

Richie. By Jove, I need one after that story. 

\_They exeimt into bar, r. 

Enter Mrs. Marie Logan, with grip, d. f. She sta?ids at 
the desk for a ?ninute. Mary begins to work on type- 
writer. Mrs. L. hears the clatter of the machine and 
comes down. 

Mrs. L. Is the clerk here ? 

Mary. He'll be in in just a minute. 

Mrs. L. Do you know if my husband is registered here? 

Mary. What is the name, please ? 

Mrs. L. Mr. James Logan. 

Mary. A moment and I'll see. (^She crosses to desk atid 
looks at register, then comes down.) Yes, ma'am, room '' 20." 

Mrs. L. (sittitig). I am the most unhappy woman in the 
world. 

Mary. Mrs. Logan, this hotel is filled with '' the most un- 
happy woman in the world." 

Mrs. L. My husband is suing for a divorce. 

Mary. That ought to make you happy. 

Mrs. L. But he has no grounds. 



ALIAS BROWN 21 

Mary. What does he charge ? 

Mrs. L. Infidelity. And no wife has ever been more faith- 
ful than I. The very action itself is based upon a deed of 
mine to make him happy. 

Mary. Does he know that ? 

Mrs. L. No. When he first accused me, I laughed, for I 
thought he was joking. Then when I realized that he was 
serious, and tried to explain to him, he flew into a passion and 
refused to listen to me. 

Mary. What fools men are. 

Mrs. L. Miss, take my advice and never marry. 

Mary. I'll try to remember that. 

Mrs. L. We had been married just a year, and I wanted 
to buy him a gift in commemoration. I have an old friend by 
the name of Brown, who is a cigar salesman, and he was to 
bring up some smoking sets to the house for me to make a 
selection. I sent him a note telling him that my husband 
would be away all the afternoon and we would not be dis- 
turbed, and asking him to be sure to come, for that was our 
anniversary day. My husband found the note, misunderstood 
it, and has come here for a divorce. (^Enter Vin.) What 
shall I do? 

Mary. Let him have it. It would be his worst punish- 
ment. 

Mrs. L. But I love him ! 

Mary. After that ? 

Mrs. L. After that, or anything else he might do. When 
a woman really loves a man, nothing can alter her affection. 
He may force her to despise him, but she will still love him. 
That is her punishment for being a woman. 

Mary. I guess I've never really loved, then. The clerk is 
here now. 

Mrs. L. (crossing to desk). Can you give me a rooui ? 

Vin. Yes, ma'am. How would you like to have the bridal 
suite ? 

Mrs. L. Don't, please ! Anything but that. 

Vin. It is very nice. 

Mrs. L. No doubt, but I have no husband. 

Vin. It might change your luck. 

Mrs. L. No real husband, I mean. I'm a wife in name 
only. 

Vin. Oh ! Another one ! 

Mrs. L. Is Mr. Logan here now ? 



22 ALIAS BROWN 

ViN. No, ma'am. He has gone to the post-office. 
Mrs. L. I'll go up, then. 

(ViN. rings bell. Enter Mont.) ^ 

ViN. Show this lady to 19. 

\^Exeunt Mont. a7id Mrs. L. /// the stairs to R. 

Mary. Mr. AUgood, why do you try to get everybody who 
comes here to take the bridal suite ? 

ViN. My persistent nature, I've been here for over three 
years, and I've never had a couple in the bridal suite yet. 
They always want separate rooms. 

E7iter YLE.m..from bar, R. 

Keel, {discovering Mary). Mary Gilbert, by all that's 
holy! 

Mary. Why, Henry Keeler, how do you do ? 

Keel. What are you doing in Reno ? 

Mary. Not what you suspect. I'm still single. 

Keel. It's been months since I saw you last. Why did 
you leave Frisco ? 

Mary. More money here. 

Keel. I inquired at the Palace where you had gone, but 
no one seemed to know, or I'd have been here long before this. 

Mary. I see you're still the same old joUier. 

Keel. No jolly about that, Mary. I've been lonesome 
since you left Frisco. 

Mary. We did have some good times, didn't we? 

Keel. Well, rather ! Nothing like them since you left. 
Do you remember the night the crowd went out to the country 
club and the car broke down and we had to walk back in the 
rain ? 

Mary. Yes. And do you remember the night Billy Fer- 
guson and Mary Wheeler eloped and we caught them at the 
ferry building 



Keel. And took them back up town 



Mary. And entertained them against their wills till morn- 
ing 

Keel. And then had Billy arrested on a fake warrant ? 

Mary. Oh, those were great days ! What's become of the 
bunch ? 

Keel. I don't know. I lost all interest in it after you left. 

Mary {lightly). Careful ! 



ALIAS BROWN 



23 



Keel. Honest. I haven't been out with them once since. 

Mary. What have you been doing ? 

Keel. Nothing much. Just running around 

Marv. Enjoying yourself. 

Keel. Trying to. It's been pretty lonesome since you left. 

Mary. You are losing your skill at repartee. You said 
that once before. 

Keel. That's because it's on my mind. 

Mary. Are you married yet ? 

Keel. Still the same suspicious Mary, I see. 

Mary. I was only curious to know. 

Keel. You always were a strict observer of the proprieties. 
I suppose that if I were to tell you I was married, you'd end 
this conversation right now. 

Mary {laughing). Not so bad as that. But a girl in my 
position has to be strict — and I've grown more so since I've 
been here. You haven't answered my question yet. 

Keel. Mary, you will never hear of my getting married so 
long as you are single. 

Mary. Still the same old Henry. 

Keel. It's like getting back home to see you again. I've 
been awfully lone 

Mary. Three times ! 

Well, I have / Have you an engagement to-night ? 
No. 



Keel. 

Mary. 

Keel. 

Mary. 

Keel. 

Mary. 

Keel. 

Mary. 



Will you take dinner with me? 
I'd love to. 

Then we'll go to a show, if there is one. 
That sounds like old times. 

Doesn't it ? I've been awfully lone 

There, there. I believed you the first time. 

(Mrs. L. comes down the stairs.) 



Keel. What time shall I call ? 

Mary. About six ? In the parlor ? 

Keel. I'll be there at a minute of six. (Mrs. L. drops 
her handkerchief as she passes Keel., and continues to c. 
Keel., picking it up.) Madam, you dropped your hand- 
kerchief. (^Crosses to c. and hands it to her.) 

Enter Logan, d. f. \ comes down to r. c. 
Mrs. L. Thank you. 



24 ALIAS BROWN 

{^Takes the proffered handkercliief a?id for a moment it ap- 
pears as though they were holding hafids.) 

Logan. My wife ! 

(Richie opens bar door, r., and sticks his head out.) 

Richie. Oh, Brown ! (Keel, fails to realize that he is 
addressed.) Brown ! Come here a minute, will you? 

(Keel, suddenly understands that he is meafit, gives a swift 
look at Mary, as if to read her thoughts.) 

Mary {vaguely, not comprehe7iding). Brown ? 
Logan {venomously). Brown ! 

Mary {as the suspicion dawns — /// consternation, forming 
the word, but not speaking it). Brown ! 
Keel, {to Richie). All right. 

(Richie's head disappears. Keel, starts over to r.) 

Logan {as Keel, reaches him). Are you a cigar sales- 
man ? 

Keel, {forcing a cigar into Logan's mouth). Yes; have 
a sample. 

{Exit Keel., r. Logan tears the cigar from his 7nouth 
and throius it on the floor angrily, folds his arms a?id 
glares at his wife.) 

Logan {knowingly and triumphantly). Ah, ha ! Brown ! 

(Mary stands wide-eyed. Mrs. L. looks from one to the 
other in astonishment.) 



CURTAIN 



ACT II 

SCENE. — The hotel parlor, r. is the entrance to the dining- 
room. L. are two large arches runfiiiig up stage. The 
back is a succession of large wi?idows run?ii?ig across the 
stage, through which can be see7i the buildings on the opposite 
side of the street. The room is finished in green a7id yellow, 
with heavy curtains at the arches and lighter ones at the 
windows. Heavy carpet on floor. There are potted palms 
off L. just behind the arches, carried off by interior backing. 
A pia7w stands i?i the corner up r. A small writing table 
stands down l. at wall, one down r. at zvall and another up 
stage. Various easy chairs about. Time is 6 : oo P. M. 
ttfid the lights on stage are on, the street drop at back being 
but dimly outlined in the twilight. Duri?ig the act the light 
on the back drop should be gradually worked from early 
evening light to moonlight. 

{At rise discover Mrs. M. sitti?ig at writing table doivn l., 
btisily writing. The rattle of chi?ia, the clank of silver 
against the dishes, the chink of ice in glass and the in- 
distinct fnurmur of a number of people in animated con- 
versation is borfie in from the dining- roofn off w. This 
continues for a brief period, duri?ig which Mrs. M. glances 
up ofice or twice. Then enter Mr. M. ^;/^ Waters, d. r. 
Waters is handi?ig Mr. M. a cigar as they enter.) 

Waters. I think you will find that a good cigar, Mortimer. 
They are the best I can get here. 

Mr. M. Thank you. Anything that will take away the 
taste of that dinner will be welcome. 

Waters. It wasn't much, was it? 

Mr. M. The cuisine is atrocious. Too bad, too, for other- 
wise the hotel is fairly good. 

Waters. Tut, tut, my boy, you mustn't complain. Re- 
member you're not on Broadway. 

Mr. M. I'm not likely to overlook it. Waters, I think I 
shall grow to positively dislike you. 

25 



26 ALIAS BROWN 

Waters. Why ? 

Mr. M. Do you realize what you are condemning me to? 

Waters. Now, Mortimer, I've explained to you before the 
necessity for this divorce. 

Mr. M. Oh, 1 don't object to that. But think, man; I 
shall have to stay in this hole for the next six months. 

Waters. Well? 

Mr. M. And it's all your fault. 

Waters {crossing to Mrs. M., l.). Ah, good-evening, Mrs. 
Mortimer. Not dining ? 

Mrs. M. No, I smelled the cooking in time. 

Waters. But you will be hungry. 

Mrs. M. Not so long as I can remember the odor. Mr. 
Waters, you are putting us to a lot of trouble. 

Waters. I realize it, but business, you know 

Mrs. M. Of course. 

Waters. Mortimer, shall we smoke ? 

Mr. M. Yes. {They start out l.) 

Mrs. M. Mortimer! {The men stop.) I would like to 
see you for a moment. 

Mr. M. (/^Waters). Excuse me? 

Waters. Certainly. \_Exit, l. 2. 

Mr. M. {drawing up chair and sitting near her). Well, 
Bee? 

Mrs. M. Do you remember the girl 1 spoke to you about 
this morning? 

Mr. M. The one you recommend as your successor ? 

Mrs. M. Yes ; the one whose picture I showed you. 

Mr. M. To be sure. What did you say her name was ? 

Mrs. M. Alice Elliott was her maiden name. I have for- 
gotten her husband's name. What do you think of her? 

Mr. M. You can't tell much from a photograph. I have 
seen pictures of you that were simply beautiful. 

Mrs. M. Immediately after our conversation this morning, 
I wired her to come here. 

Mr. M. Here ! Why ? 

Mrs. M. So that you can meet her. 

Mr. M. Couldn't you give me a letter of introduction ? 
This is a beastly place to live in when one doesn't have to. 

Mrs. M. But think of the time you will save. You will 
have to remain here for the next six months. If she comes 
here your courtship will be all over by the time the decree 
is granted. 



ALIAS BROWN 27 

Mr. M. It's a bully idea, Bee ! I don't know what I'm 
going to do without you to think of things like that for me. 

Mrs. M. You'll get along. 

Mr. M. What will you do during those six months ? 

Mrs. M. I've been talking it over with Mr. Waters. You 
will ask for the divorce. That will leave me free to go east 
and prepare for next season. I've a lot of studying to do, and 
then there are the new gowns. 

Mr. M. When will she be here ? 

Mrs. M. Perhaps to-morrow. I can't say. 

Mr. M. I think I'll join Waters now. D'ye mind ? 

Mrs. M. Not at all. Run along. \^Exit Mr. M., l. 2. 

Enter Richie, l. i. 

Richie (he is agai?i i?itoxicated. He does not stagger y but 
is a little uncertain on his feet. He runs into the chair just 
vacated by Mr. M.). I beg your pardon. {Makes an elaborate 
bow and backs i?ito Mrs. M. Turns.) And yours too. 
Ev'rybody seems so res'less to-night. (He straightens up and 
they look at each other. His face takes on a puzzled expres- 
sion.) I beg your pardon, but your face looks familiar. 

Mrs. M. There's something about you that seems familiar. 

Richie. 'Scuseme; no offense meant. 

Mrs. M. Not that. Haven't I met you somewhere ? 

Richie. I've been there. 

Mrs. M. May I ask your name? 

Richie. Cer'ainly. M' name's Richie. Mr. Thomas 
Richie. 

Mrs. M. I can't place the name. It must be a resemblance 
to some one, but I thought at first I had met you. 

Richie. I've seen you before, I know. VVha's your name? 

Mrs. M. Mrs. Mortimer. 

Richie. Oh, you're actress ! 

Mrs. M. Yes. 

Richie. Tha's it. Seen you on th' stage. Fine, too. 
Fine. Goo* show. Bes' ever saw. 'Scuse th' interruption. 
Goin' dinner. \^Exity d. r. 

Mrs. M. {looking after hini). I wonder 

{Shakes her head and sits.) 

Enter Keel., l. 2. Glances at Mrs. M. as he passes her and 
crosses to R. c. Just as he gets across the sta<y;e a clock 
off strikes six. He looks at his watch in cofifirmatioji of 



28 ALIAS BROWN 

the clock, then sits. A short pause. He rises, looks at 
his watch agaiti, walks up l., then back down r. a?id sits 
agaiii. Another short pause. He agaifi rises, looks at 
his watch and with it iti his hand crosses to Mrs. M. 

Keel. I beg your pardon, madam. Have you the time? 

Mrs. M. (^gla7icing at her watch). Three minutes past six. 

Keel. Thank you. 1 was afraid my watch was wrong. 
Have you been in the room long ? 

Mrs. M. Some little time. 

Keel. Have you seen a young lady here ? 

Mrs. M. Several. What does the young lady you have in 
mind look like ? 

Keel. She's medium build, with a — medium build, you 
know, and — medium build — well, her most marked character- 
istic would be a hungry look. She was to take dinner with me 
at six. 

Mrs. M. I don't think she has come yet. 

Keel. Thank you. I was afraid I had missed her. Par- 
don my presumption, but are you not Mrs. Mortimer, the cele- 
brated actress? 

Mrs. M. I am. 

Keel. I thought I couldn't be mistaken. I have seen you 
on the stage, and admired your work. 

Mrs. M. Thank you. Praise is always pleasant to hear. 
You like the theatre ? 

Keel. Very much. I'm in the show business myself, in a 
very, very small way. 

Mrs. M. Movnig pictures ? 

Keel. No j I sell the Lillian Russell and Richard Mansfield 
cigars. 

Mrs. M. Oh, you're a cigar salesman ? 

Keel. Yes. Here is my card. (^Hands her card.) Have 
a sam {Fulls cigar from pocket.) I beg your pardon. 

Mrs. M. Don't mention it, Mr. {looking at card) Brown. 

E72ter Mrs. B., d. r. 

Keel. Second nature, you know. I'm handing out sam- 
ples all the time. 

(Crosses to r. c. and sits. Mrs. B. crosses to l., and sits 
near Mrs. M.) 

Mrs. M. {pleasantly). Good-evenmg. 



ALIAS BROWN 2() 

Mrs. B. Good-evening. Aren't you Mrs. Mortimer, the 

actress ? 

Mrs. M. I am. 

Mrs. B. I thought I recognized you. The last time I saw 
you was in a play called "The Deserted Wife." Little did I 
dream then that I was watching what would some day be my 
own experience. 

Mrs. M. Has your husband left you ? 

Mrs. B. No ; but he has been unfaithful to me. 

Mrs. M. They all are. The only difference is that some 
of us wives do not find it out. Are you divorcing him ? 

Mrs. B. Yes. 

Mrs. M. What does your husband have to say in defense ? 

Mrs. B. Nothing. He is a traveling man, and was on the 
road when 1 discovered his perfidy ; at least he was supposed 
to be. I shouldn't be surprised to know that he was spending 
the time with his inamorata, Mrs. Logan. 

Mrs. M. And you have given him no opportunity to 
explain ? 

Mrs. B. No explanation is necessary. I am in possession 
of the facts, and they are incontrovertible. 

Mrs. M. I think you are making a mistake, Mrs. ? 

Mrs. B. My name is Brown. 

(Keel, rises with a gasp of astonishment.^ 

Mrs. M. Brown, did you say ? 
Mrs. B. Yes. 

Mrs. M. I think you are mistaken, Mrs. Brown. Your 
husband is attending strictly to business. 
Mrs. B. How do you know ? 
Mrs. M. Is he a cigar salesman ? 

(Keel, apprehensive.) 
Mrs. B. Yes. 

(Keel, very nervous.) 

Mrs. M. Is that his card ? 

{Hands Keel.'s card to Mrs. B.) 

Mrs. B. Yes; where did you get it? 

(Keel, shows signs of extreme distress, and looks about 
frantically for a means of escape.) 



30 



ALIAS BROWN 



Mrs. M. He gave it to me. 

Mrs. B. He gave it to you ! When ? 

Mrs. M. In this room, about five minutes ago. (Keel. 

ducks behind a settee.) Perhaps he is still {Looks 

around.) No, he has gone. 

(Keel, looks up.) 

Mrs. B. Wait 'til I catch him — wait 'til I 

(Keel, ducks.) 

Mrs. M. Now, Mrs. Brown, take my advice and give your 
husband a chance to explain before you do anything you might 
be sorry for. 

Mrs. B. Nothing can excuse him. The facts are too clear. 

Mrs. M. Nonsense. My husband has time and time again 
convinced me that he was absolutely innocent of misdeeds, 
where the e\adence would have hanged him. 

Mrs. B. Your husband may be different from mine. 

Mrs. M. Husbands are like grape fruit. They may appear 
to be a little different on the outside, but on the inside they are 
all equally sour and acid. 

Mrs. B. Does the simile extend to the taste ? 

Mrs. M. Yes, it invariably has to be cultivated. Come, 
let us see if we can find Mr. Brown. You ought to talk things 
over with him before you take any action. \They exeunt l. i. 

Keel, {rising from behind settee). Phew! {Wipes the per- 
spiration fro77i his forehead and looks cautiously around. A 
noise off r. He ducks again. Enter Richie, d. r. Keel. 
looks cautiously 0Ver back of settee ; then rises.) Richie! 

Richie [Jumping). What do you mean, startling me that 
way? I'm a narvous man. That's the way my wife used 
to do. 

Keel. Do you remember what I told you this morning 
about meeting a drummer on the train by the name of Brown ? 

Richie. Yes. 

Keel. And, unbeknown to him, borrowing some of his cards ? 

Richie. Yes. 

Keel. And passing myself off as Brown ? 

Richie. Yes. You said it was a brilliant scheme, and I 
think myself it was re-re-reraarkably clever. 

Keel. Of all the foolish, asinine, imbecilic tricks I've ever 
done, this one was the worst. What do you suppose has hap- 
pened ? 



ALIAS BROWN 3 1 

Richie. Lost th* cards ? 

Keel. No such luck. I wish I had. Brown is married — 
and his wife is here. 

Richie. Here ? 

Keel. Yes. She is suing him for a divorce. 

Richie. You're safe. She doesn't know you. 

Keel, No, but everybody else does. I have introduced 
myself as Brown to every one I have met. 

Richie. But she doesn't know that. 

Keel. She does. That's the trouble. Just a minute ago 
Mrs. Mortimer said to her, *' Your husband is here." They 
are looking for me now. 

Richie. You ought to be married. Trouble seems to come 
natural to you. What are you going to do? 

Keel. Keep out of sight of Mrs. Brown if possible. The 
minute she sees me she will say, "That's not Mr. Brown," 
and then you can see my finish. 

Richie {starting to l.). Better come and have a drink. 

Keel. Excuse me ! They just went in that direction. I'll 
remain here, where there's something handy to hide behind. 

l^Exit Richie, l. 2. 

Enter Mrs. L., l. i. 

Mrs. L. Pardon me (Keel, starts^ apprehensively) ^ have 
you seen Mr. Logan — Mr. James Logan ? 

Keel. I don't know the gentleman. 

Mrs. L. I'm very, very anxious to find him. It is very 
important. 

Keel. He may be in the dining-room. I'll inquire if you 
wish. 

Mrs. L. Please. (^jc//Keel., d. r. In amo7nent\^OGk^ 
enters n. R. ^Irs. "L.^ pleadingly.) Jim! 

Logan {sternly). Well, what is it ? 

Mrs. L. Please don't speak to me in that tone of voice, Jim. 

Logan. What are you doing in Reno ? 

Mrs. L. I followed you to force you to listen to me ; you 
refused to do so at home. It is all a horrible misunderstanding, 
Jim. 

Logan. I think I understand. 

Mrs. L. No, you don't, or you would never have come 
here. Listen, Jim dear; please let me explain. 

Logan. No explanations are necessary. I have the note 
you sent to Brown, and it speaks for itself. 



32 ALIAS BROWN 

Mrs. L. But you misunderstood it. It was a horrible mis- 
take, 

Logan. No doubt. The mistake lay in allowing me to get 
hold of the note. 

Mrs. L. Jim, you must let me explain. 

Logan. Oh, why waste words? You have deceived me 
once ; you would do so again. 

Mrs. L. I didn't deceive you. 

Logan. Enough ! I arrived here this morning. Almost 
the first sight that met my eyes was you standing in the hotel 
lobby holding hands with that scoundrel Brown. Do you want 
to explain that? 

Mrs. L. That wasn't Mr. Brown. 

Logan. Oh, no, I suppose not. But, just the same, when 
you call him Brown — he comes. 

Mrs. L. I mean, it was not the Mr. Brown I wrote the 
note to. 

Logan. Oh-ho ! The plot thickens. The intrigue takes 
in the whole Brown family now. 

Mrs. L. Jim, I never saw that man before. 

Logan. I don't blame you. I would lie just as fast as you 
are if I were caught in the same position. {^Enter Keel., 
D. R. -y crosses to c.) I hope it will not be necessary, but if 
you must talk to me again, please consider my feelings to the 
extent of not sending Mr. Brown after me. 

(Keel, starts wieasily.') 

Mrs. L. Jim, I can't believe that you think me guilty, as 
you say. Please listen 

Logan. Woman, all is over between us. You have carried 
on this intrigue with Brown, publicly, in the open. You 
brought him here with you and flaunted him in my face. 
•Now, I warn you. The next time I see this serpent Brown, I'll 
wreak upon him all the pent up vengeance of a wronged hus- 
band's bruised and broken heart. (Keel., scared to deaths 
ducks behind a settee.') I'll shatter every bone in his body. I'll 
pulverize him until there will not be enough of him left for you 
to place an unholy and dishonorable kiss upon his remains ! 

\Exit, D. R. 
(Keel, comes out?) 

Keel. Madam, I'm very sorry to have been the cause 
of 



ALIAS BROWN 33 

Mrs. L. Don't speak to me ! 

Keel. I didn't know 

Mrs. L. Why, oh why, did your name have to be Brown ? 

Enter Mrs. B., l. 2. 

Keel. Well, you see, it was my father's name, and it runs 
in the family. 

Mrs. L. My husband will never beheve me now. 

Keel. Mrs. Logan, if there is anything 

Mrs. B. Logan! (^Crosses to Mrs. L.) Is your name 



Logan ? 




Mrs. L. Yes, ma'am. 




Mrs. B. Marie Logan ? 




Mrs. L. Yes. 




Mrs. B. My name is Brown ! 


{Folds her arms.') 


Keel. Good-night ! 


\_Exit hastily y l. i 



Mrs. B. Mrs. John Brown. Perhaps the name is familiar 
to you. 

Mrs. L. The name is familiar, and your actions are, but I 
can't recall having met you. 

Mrs. B. Perhaps you can recall having met my husband. 

Mrs. L. Is he a cigar salesman ? 

Mrs. B. He is. 

Mrs. L. Yes, he and I are very old friends. 

Mrs. B. 0-h ! So you admit it, do you ? 

Mrs. L. Why not ? I knew John Brown when he was a 
single {with a spiteful glance) and I think a happier man. 

Mrs. B. Yes, and you've known him since he was married 
— you've known him very well indeed. 

Mrs. L. What do you mean ? 

Mrs. B. I mean that I'm here to divorce my husband, and 
you will be named as co respondent. 

Mrs. L. O-h ! 

Mrs. B. I have just learned that my husband is here. 
Now that I know you are here also, I understand his presence. 

Mrs. L. Stop ! That's the second time I've been accused 
of 



Mrs. B. Where there's smoke there's fire. 

Mrs. L. Your husband's relations with me have been irre- 
proachable 

Mrs. B. Of course. They always say that ; they have to 
say something. 



34 



ALIAS BROWN 



Mrs. L. But now that I've seen you, I wouldn't blame him 
for doing anything. 

Mrs. B. Snake ! 

Mrs. L. Cat ! 

Mrs. B. Mrs. Marie Logan, my husband is my property 
until 1 secure my divorce, and I warn you that if 1 see you 
with him before my decree is granted, 1 shall do a little pistol 
practice, and I'm known as the best woman shot in California. 

[Exit, L. 2. 
Enter Keel., l. i. 

Keel. Mrs. Logan, I've just thought of a plan to 



Mrs. L. Oh, Mr. Brown, leave me — leave me ! Under no 
circumstances must we be seen together ! I have made a hor- 
rible blunder ! 

Keel. What do you mean ? 

Mrs. L. One of us, perhaps both, will be shot ! 

Keel. What ! 

Mrs. L. I was just talking to your wife. 

Keel. My what ! Wife ! 

Mrs. L. Yes, and I took her to be the wife of another 
Mr. Brown I know. 

Keel. But you are mistaken. I have no 

Mrs. L. Listen — listen ! 1 told her that I knew you, that 
we were old friends, thinking all the time that she was the 
other Mrs. Brown. 

Keel. But I'm not 

Mrs. L. She threatens to shoot me if she sees us together. 
You won't let us be seen together, will you, please? 

Keel. Don't you worry. So far as I am concerned, I 
won't even be seen together alone. But it's all a mistake about 
my having a wi 

Mrs. L. I must go now. She might return. [Exit, l. i. 

Efiter ViN., L. 2. 

ViN. Good -evening, Mr. Brown. 
Keel. Good-evening. 
ViN. Pleasant evening, isn't it? 

Keel. Now that you mention it, it is. Little warm, 
though. 

ViN. I hadn't noticed. Enjoying yourself? 
Keel. Oh, yes, yes ! Having a delightful time. 



ALIAS BROWN 35 

ViN. There's not much going on in town just now. Things 
are a bit slow. 

Keel. Perhaps there's not much going on in town, but, 
believe me, there's plenty going on in this hotel. 

ViN. Yes ? 

Keel. I've been on the jump ever since I got here. 

\_Exit ViN. into dining-room, r. 

Enter La Rue, l. 2. 

La Rue. How do you do ? 

Keel. Good-evening. 

La Rue. They told me the clerk was in here. 

Keel. Yes, he was. 

La Rue. I want to see him. I'm the chief of police. 

Keel, {startled ). I beg your pardon ? 

La Rue. I say, I'm the chief of police. I want to see 
him. 

Keel, {backitig over to l. as he speaks'). Yes, he's here ; I 
mean, was here. Just went into the dining-room. He will no 
doubt be out in a minute, but if it's important perhaps you 
had better go right in — yes, I would suggest that you go right 
in — right into the dining-room, you know. \^Exit, L. 

Enter Vin., d. r. 

ViN. Hello, La Rue. What's stirring ? 

La Rue. Nothing much. Say, have you got a party 
registered here by the name of (^pulling out telegram and 
scanning it ) Keeler ? 

Vin. Keeler ? 

La Rue. Yes, Henry Keeler. 

Vin. No ; nobody by that name. 

La Rue. You're sure ? 

Vin. Positive ! Did you try the other hotel ? 

La Rue. Not yet. I'm going up now. 

Vin. What's up ? 

La Rue. I have a telegram from the chief at Sacramento, 
to locate a party by the name of Keeler. Left there last night. 

Vin. Do they know he came to Reno ? 

La Rue. No, they're just trying to locate him. Well, 
guess I'll go over to the other hotel. 

{They start out L.) 



36 ALIAS BROWN 

ViN. Yes, he may be there. 
La Rue. Have a cigar ? {^Offers one.) 
ViN. {taking it). Thank you. If I hear anything I'll let 
you know. \They exeunt, l. i. 

Enter Keel., l. 2. 

Keel, {looking off l.). Chief of police I I wonder 

(Enter Mary, l. i. Keel, looks at watch.') Good-evening, 
Mary. I've been patiently waiting for you. 

Mary {coolly and indifferently). Have you ? 

{Sits at piano.) 

Keel. Yes ; you're late. 
Mary {indifferently). Am I ? 

Keel. Half an hour. I never knew you to be late before. 
Mary {coolly). I'm sorry. 
Keel. What's wrong, Mary? 
Mary {shortly). Nothing. 

Keel. Oh, come now, something has happened. I never 
saw you like this before. 

Mary {positively). There is nothing at all the matter. 

Keel. All right, then. Shall we go to dinner now ? 

Mary. No. 

Keel. I beg your pardon ? 

Mary. I've changed my mind. 

Keel. You're not going ? 

Mary. No. 

Keel. Have I done anything to offend you? 

Mary. No. 

Keel. Have I failed to do something ? 

Mary. No. 

Keel. Tell me; what's the matter ? 

Mary. There's nothing to tell. 

{Tur?is to the piano and strums the keys.) 

Keel. Mary, listen to me. 

{She plays very rapidly i?i the treble. He attempts to catch 
her hands. She evades him and plays rapidly in the bass. 
Saj?ie business. She retur7is to the treble. Same busi- 
ness. She turns with her back to the piano. He gets her 
hands.) 



ALIAS BROWN 



37 



Mary {coldly). Mr. Keeler ! 

Keel. Mary ! 

Mary {sterfily). Please — let go of my hands 1 

(He releases them.) 

Keel. What is it, Mary ? 

Mary. If you don't see fit to volunteer an explanation, I 
have DO right to demand one. 

Keel, {fiot u?ider standi fig). Explanation ? 

Mary. What is your name ? 

Keel. Why, Keeler, of course. 

Mary. Then why did that man call you Brown this 
morning ? 

Keel, (as the light breaks). 0-h ! Why, he's near-sighted 
and mistook me for some one else. 

Mary. Then, why did you answer ? 

Keel. Well, you see, he has an awful temper, and I didn't 
want to arouse him. 

Mary. So you merely said '' all right " and went to him ? 

Keel. M'hm. 

Mary. Do you think I believe that ? 

Keel. I hope so. 

Mary. Well, I don't ! 

Keel. I was afraid you wouldn't. 

Mary. Why did he call you Brown, and why did you an- 
swer so readily and matter of fact? 

Keel. What difference does it make ? 

Mary. Every difference. I have lived long enough and 
seen enough to know that everything that looks irregular should 
be investigated. 

- Keel. Mary, I'm ashamed of the whole affair, but I'm go- 
iij,.; to tell you the truth. 

Mary. It would be useless to tell me anything else. 

Keel. I believe you. (Speaks hesitatingly^ as though 
ashamed.) Yesterday I was in Sacramento. 

Mary. Well ? 

Keel. And last night I went to a — a — prize-fight. We 
were — arrested and compelled to give our names. I — I — I 
managed to — escape — ^jumped on a train and this morning — 
found myself in — Reno. 

Mary. What has that to do with Brown ? 

Keel. On the train I met a cigar drummer, who fell asleep. 



38 ALIAS BROWN 

I — I — abstracted some cards from his pocket — and — and — have 
been passing myself off as Brown — in order to avoid being re- 
taken. 

Mary {bursting mfo a?i uncontrollable fit of laughter). And 
you expect me to believe that ! {Laughs.) 

Keel, {astounded). Why not? It's the truth. 

Mary. A schoolboy could have done better. You stam- 
mered and stuttered and floundered, palpably improvising. 
Try again, Mr. Keeler. 

Keel. You don't believe me? 

Mary. Assuredly not. I know you too well. They 
wouldn't have caught you in the first place. Oh, it's pre- 
posterous. Now, tell me the truth. 

Keel. But, Mary, I have told you the truth. 

Mary. You want me to think you have. The whole story 
is absurd — ridiculous. Henry, I'm disappointed in you. I 
had grown to believe that you were the soul of honor, and I 
would have staked my life on any statement that you would 
have made. Now, everybody in this hotel is calling you 
Brown, and I have only your statement that you haven't been 
deceiving me all the time as to your identity. 

Keel. You surely don't doubt that my name 

Mary. In Frisco you were Keeler to everybody. In Reno 
everybody knows you as Brown. What am I to believe ? 

(Keel, looks off i.., gives a sudden start.) 

Keel. Quick, Mary, look out of the window. Isn't the 
sunset wonderful ? 

{He whirls her around and they stand looking out window 

in flat, their backs to house. ) 

Enter Mrs. B., ^//^ Mrs. M., l. i. 

Mrs. B. Mrs. Mortimer, where do you suppose my hus- 
band has gone ? 

Mrs. M. I can't imagine, Mrs. Brown. He was talking to 
me just a minute before I met you. 

Mrs. B. We've been in the office, all over the grounds, 
and the clerk says Mr. Brown is not in his room. 

Mrs. M. Perhaps he has seen you and 

Mrs. B. I'll tell you where he probably is ! (Keel, starts.) 
He's sequestered somewhere with that Mrs. Logan, the huzzy. 
And still you want me to give him a chance to explain. 



ALIAS BROWN 39 

(Mary attempts to turn; Keel, whirls her back to the 
window.) 

Enter Logan, d. r. 

Mrs. M. I think you should. Now, Mrs. Brown, take my 
advice 

Logan. Brown ! (^Conies down to the women.) Which of 
you is Mrs. Brown ? 

Mrs. B. 1 am. 

(Keel, ducks behind a settee.') 

Logan. Mrs. John Brown ? 

Mrs. B. Yes. 

Logan. Is your husband a cigar drummer ? 

Mrs. B. Yes. 

Logan. My name is Logan ! 

Mrs. B. Oh ! {Sways and Mrs. M. supports her.) 

Logan. I sent you a copy of a letter my wife wrote your 
husband. Did you receive it? 

Mrs. B. Yes ; and I have come here for a divorce. 

Logan. That's my mission also. Are you aware that Mr. 
Brown is here? 

Mrs. B. Yes ; I've been looking for him. 

Logan. When I arrived this morning the first sight that 
met my eyes was your husband and my wife standing in the 
lobby, holding hands. 

Mrs. B. Then that's what they're doing now ! 

Logan. I threatened my wife that if I caught them together 
again I would thrash Brown within an inch of his life. 

Mrs. B. And I assured her that if I caught them together I 
would resort to firearms — and I will. 

Logan. I'm looking for Brown now. 

Mrs. B. So am I. 

Logan. But I can't find him. 

Mrs. B. Neither can I. 

Mrs. M. Mr. Logan — Mrs. Brown, one word, please. I 
have had three divorces, and I know something about the sub- 
ject. All this excitement and anger will do you no good. 
Talk things over quietly, arrange a settlement, and get the mat- 
ter over without any display. You will be as well off and may 
not have to defend yourselves with *' the unwritten law." It 
doesn't pay. 



40 ALIAS BROWN 

Logan. I want to see Brown ! 
Mrs. B. So do I ! 
Mrs. M. Remember, I warned you. 

Logan {discovering Mary). Young lady, do you know Mr. 
John Brown by sight? 
Mary. Yes, sir. 

Logan. Have you seen him recently ? 
Mary {after a pause). Yes, sir. 
Logan. Where was he ? 

Mary {after a pause). On the hotel verandah. 
Logan. Thank you. {To the others.) Let us go. 

{They exeunt J l. i. Keel, rises from behitid settee.) 

Keel. Mary, how can I ever thank you ? 

Mary. Don't talk to me. 

Keel. You've gotten me out of an awful scrape. 

Mary. Don't flatter yourself it was for your sake. It was 
only to keep myself out of the mire. Oh, how 1 despise it all ! 

Keel. Mary, it is an awful, terrible mistake. 

Mary. It was, but I'll never make another. I trusted you 
once; I thought you were manly and honest. Now, I'm 
through with you and all men. They are all alike. 

Keel. Mary ! 

Mary. Why did you tell me in Frisco that your name was 
Keeler ? 

Keel. Because it is. 

Mary. Prove it. 

Keel. I will ! 

Enter La Rue, l. 2. 

La Rue. Miss Gilbert, may I speak to you a moment ? 

Mary. Certainly. {Crosses to him.) 

Keel. The cop ! 

La Rue. I'm looking for a party by the name of Keeler. 
(Keel, wildly agitated.) Have you taken any dictation for 
such a party ? 

Mary. No. 

La Rue. Have you met anybody by that name ? 

Mary. I have met no one I know to be Keeler. 

La Rue. If you do, I wish you'd let me know. 

Mauy. I will. 

La Rue {to Keel.). Pardon me, stranger, have you met 
anybody around here by the name of Keeler? 



alias brown 4i 

Keel. No. 

La Rue, I've got a wire from Sacra You answer the 

description pretty well yourself. Only Keeler is described as a 
jolly chap, with a mustache. 

Keel. If I meet him I'll let you know. 

La Rue. Thanks. Wish you would. What's your name ? 

Keel. My name is — Brown. I'm a cigar salesman ; here's 
my card. Have a sample. 

{Thrusts cigar into La Rue's mouth,') 

La Rue. Thanks. Well, so-long. \_Exiti l. 2. 

Mary. Well, Mr. Brown ! 

Keel. Mary, that is not my name. 

Mary. You admit it to an officer of the law. Why did you 
shave off your mustache ? 

Keel. On account of the Sacramento affair. 

Mary. That story is impossible. But I suspect it is noth- 
ing at all compared with what you are trying to conceal. 

Keel, Mary, give me one more chance, and I'll prove to 
you beyond cavil that I am innocent of anything you might 
suspect. 

Mary. How ? 

Keel. One of my best friends is in the hotel now. I'll find 
him, and he will tell you the truth. 

Mary. No doubt, after you have gotten him properly 
primed. 

Keel. Ah, here he is now. {E?iter Richie, l. i.) 
Richie ! 

(Richie crosses to them.') 

Mary. Stop ! I will interrogate him. {To Richie.) Do 
you know this gentleman ? 

Richie. I should shay I do. 

Mary. How long have you known him 

Richie. Known him ev'r since Hec was li'U wee pup, so 
high. 

{hidicates about four inches from floor and almost loses 

balance.) 

Mary, Is h^ a friend of yours ? 



42 ALIAS BROWN 

Richie. Bes' frien' ev'r had. 

Mary. You know him very intimately? 

Richie. Know him so well I could buy his underclothes for 
him. 

Mary. What is his name? 

{^Frantic signals from Keel, to Richie.) 

Richie. Name? Name? Oh, yes; his name's Brown. 

Mary. Are you sure? 

Richie. Sure I'm sure. I was at the chris — chris — chris — 
when he was named. 

Mary. Please leave us. (^Exit Richie, d. r. ) Well, Mr. 
Brown, your "best friend" seems to know your name better 
than you do. {He attempts to speak.') Silence ! You have 
nothing to say that would interest me. I know you now for 
what you are. Your name is Brown, and you are married. 
You are also a co-respondent in a sordid divorce case. And 
you are the man I thought was white and clean. You are the one 
man of all men I would have staked my soul on as being a man. 
You have deceived me, you have misled me in every possible 
way you could, and heaven only knows to what you would have 
stooped if our friendship had continued. Oh, how I despise 
you ! To be what you are is bad enough, but to come to me 
representing yourself as a single man, under an assumed name, 
ingratiating yourself into my friendship, is despicable. I would 
hate you if it were not that you are beneath an honest emotion 
of any kind. \_Exit,\.. 

Keel. The next man who says anything to me about a 
prize-fight is going to be laid up with a broken head. 

Enter Richie, d. r. 

Richie. That's the third time I've been in the dining-room 
since dinner. Nev'r saw such res'less doors. 

Keel. Richie, you addlepated, soft-brained, blithering, 
imbecilic apology for a human being, what did you mean tell- 
ing that lady my name was Brown ? 

Richie. 'Structions. 'Smorning you said, "Until I give 
you th' word, my name is Brown." 

Keel. But couldn't you see that this was different ? Didn't 
you get my signals ? 

Richie. Oh, is that what they were ? \ thought yoq were 
having a fit, 



ALIAS BROWN 43 

Keel. But couldn't you use a little judgment ? Didn't you 
see that I was in trouble ? 

Richie. Certainly. But that's nothing new. I nev'r saw 
you when you weren't in trouble. 

Keel. Well, you've got me in bad all right — clear up to 
my eyebrows. The lady will never speak to me again. She 
thinks I am married. 

Richie. Then I'll hunt her up and explain. 

(False start to L.) 

Keel. Come back, and don't you say a word to her at any 
time. She will only think it's a frame up. 

Richie. 'M awfully sorry. 

Keel. It's done now. But don't you tell anybody else 
that my name is Brown. Remember, if you should be asked 
again what my name is, tell the truth. 

Richie. I'll do it if it chokes me. Better have a drink. 

Keel. No, thanks. I need a clear head while I'm in this 
hotel. [^jc// Richie, l. i. 

Enter Billy, l. 2. 

Billy. Good-evening, sir. 

Keel, (^gruffly). How do you do? (Sits R.) 

Enter La Rue, l. 2. 

La Rue. Say, Newcomb, are you training for a marathon ? 

Billy. Hello, La Rue. What's the matter ? 

La Rue. I've been trying to catch up with you for the last 
two blocks. 

Billy. That's my usual gait. 

La Rue. Then I'm glad I don't travel in your company. 

Billy. What's the excitement? 

La Rue. I'm looking for a party by the name of Keeler. 

BiiLY. Well ? 

La Rue. And I thought you might have run across him 
to-day. 

Billy. Not that I remember. Keeler, did you say ? 

La Rue. Yes. 

Billy. No, no, I haven't seen him. If I do I'll let you 
know. 

La Rue. Wish you would. Well, so-long. 



44 ALIAS BROWN 

Billy, Good-night. \^Exit La Rue, l. 2. 

Enter Mary, l. i . 

Mary (effusively). Good -evening, Billy. 

Billy. Good-evening, Mary. I've been looking for you. 

Mary. How nice. I'm awfully glad to see you. 

Billy. It's the first time you ever said so. 

Mary. I'm lonesome to-night. 

Billy. How will I do for company ? 

Mary. Splendidly. I was hoping you would drop in. 

Billy. My luck seems to have changed. Have you an 
engagement ? 

Mary. No. 

Billy. Fine ! How would you like to take dinner with 
me? 

Mary. I'd love to. 

Billy (efithusing). Then we can go to a show, if you like. 

Mary. That would be nice. 

Billy. And then a little supper. 

Mary. Better and better. 

Billy. You haven't gone out with me for a long time, 
Mary. 

Mary. Then we'll call this evening a reward of perse- 
verance. 

Billy. And in the future ? 

Mary. I shall be glad to go with you, Billy, if you wish 
me to. 

Billy. If I wish you to ! Mary 

(Keel, rises and crosses to R.) 

Keel. Good-night, Miss Gilbert. 

Mary. Mr. Newcomb, I want you to meet Mr. Brow 

Keel. Please don't. 

Mary {to Keel.). Pardon me. {To Billy.) I want you 
to meet Mr. Keeler. 

Billy {holding out his hand). Glad to know you, Mr. 
Keeler. 

Keel, (igfioring the proffered hatid ; savagely). How do 
you do? 

Mary {siveetly). Mr. Newcomb is an old friend of 
mine 

Keel. So I see. 



ALIAS BROWN 



45 



Mary. We are just going to dinner. Will you excuse us ? 

Keel. Certainly. Don't let me detain you. 

Billy (suddenly remembering). Keeler ! 

Keel. Well, sir? 

Billy. I beg your pardon. The exclamation was involun- 
tary. The chief of police was asking me about you. I'll tell 
him I saw you. \_Exeunt Mary atid Billy, l. i. 

Keel, {standing for a moment in silent fury). Damn ! 



CURTAIN 



ACT III 

SCENE. — Same as Act I. Time, the next morning. When 
curtain rises ViN. is discovered behind the desk, Mont, sit- 
iifig up c. 

Enter Rastus, d. f. He wears a cap bearing the word 
'' Porter y 

Rastus. Good-mawnin', Mista AUgood. 

ViN. Good-morning, Rastus. 

Rastus. Is dey any trunks to be toted down to de depot 
dis mawnin' ? 

ViN. Not yet. You're too early. 

Rastus." Ah knows, but de early bird ketches de tips. 
{Starts down stage. Mont, sticks his foot out and trips him, 
Rastus, almost falling.) Heah, you good-for-nuffin little 
debbil you, what you mean sagaciatin' dataway wid de dignity 
ob dis yeah hotel ? 

ViN. Montmorency, behave yourself. 

Mont. I wasn't doin' nothin'. 

(Waters appears and starts down stairs, L.) 

Rastus. Chile, chile, don' — don' you lie like dat. 

Mont. He stepped on my foot. 

Rastus. Lookaheah, sonny, you go repeatin* any ob dem 
pernicious perfohmances ob yours, an' Ah'll be a-steppin' on 
youh haid. 

Waters (at desk). Good-morning. 

ViN. Good -morning, Mr. Waters. Sleep well ? 

Waters. Very well, thank you. Give me my bill. 

ViN. Yes, sir. Leaving to-day? 

Waters. Yes. Send up for ray trunk. 

ViN. Rastus, bring a trunk down from 41. 

Rastus. Yes, sah. Yes, sah. \^Exit up stairs, L. 

Waters. I'm going into the bar. Have my bill ready 
when I return. 

ViN. Yes, sir. {^Exit Waters, d. r. 

Enter Richie down stairs, l. 

46 



ALIAS BROWN 



47 



Richie (quite sober-). Good-morning, Allgood. 

kept quiet. 

S^H:K!^Tf"TheV fought over the^r divorce settlement 
neS all night. I wish you'd get my bill ready. 

S^„:.^°Yr'S^out to-day. Got ti.e to take a 

"^"vm. Not now, thank you just the same. 

Richie. All right. See you later. \_hx,t, T>. i^. 

Enter Waters, d. r. Rastus comes down stairs with trunk. 

Rastus. Amdisyour trunk, sah? 

Waters. Yes. Here. 

(_Reaelus in pocket, produces coin and hands it to RastuS.) 

fv^s. ^r^^rrs;t,e^ht^^^^-i-^ 

"Tastus. Yes, sah. Yes, sah, I's got to. 

S?.- gri'.^'t^~oromohi,es. Tsbuyin- 

liberty. 

Waters. Liberty . ^^^^j^3 ^^^^^ 

divorce. 

Waters. Divorce ! , . . -r. 

Ss ^^ f ^^s:M;-or: ho isn. here .or 
a Se?' (7-. Vm.) I'll bet that's why you're here. 
{Exit Rastus, d. f., with trunk.) 

Vm You lose, Mr. Waters. I have mine. 

Waters. Then what are you doing here f t. t„ok all 

to get out of town or, account of the ahmony. 



48 ALIAS BROWN 

Waters {to Mont.). Well, my boy, I suppose you're here 
for a divorce, too. 

Mont. Me ? Not on yer movin' pitchers. 

Waters. You are a little young. But your time will 
come. 

Mont. Nit, governor ! No weddin' bells for muh. 

Waters. You may change your mind. 

Mont. Naw, I've had enough of married life. Me mudder 
an' de old man come here last year to get their divorce. And 
when dey got it, neither of dem would take muh, and I had to 
go to work, see ! 

Enter Mr. M. down stairs^ L. 

Mr. M. Good-morning, Waters. 

Waters. Good-morning, Mortimer, Are you and Mrs. 
Mortimer occupying the same apartments ? 

Mr. M. Certainly. 

Waters. Now, my boy, that won't do. That's liable to 
cause talk. 

Mr. M. I fail to see why. 

Waters. You are here for a divorce, and you and your 
wife are occupying the same apartments ? It's scandalous. 

Mr. M. But we are not quarreling. 

Waters. That's it. Why aren't you ? Here, I'm doing 
everything I can to help you ; circulating all kinds of stories 
about you ; trying to convince the judge that your married life 
is a hollow mockery — and you two go about billing and cooing 
like a couple of jackasses. 

Mr. M. Waters, we'll be separated in six months from now. 
Why can't we be happy until then ? 

Waters. Because I say so. You've got to move over to 
the other hotel until Mrs. Mortimer leaves here. 

Mr. M. What ! 

Waters. If the judge ever saw you two together he'd 
throw rice at you instead of divorcing you. Now, you come 
with me and we'll find you other quarters. 

Mr. M. But I don't want 

Waters. It doesn't make any difference what you want. 
You'll do as I say. {They exeunt, D. F. 

Enter Mrs. Thomas Richie, d. f. 

Mrs. R. {at desk). Is Mrs. Mortimer registered here? 
ViN. Y^s, rna'am, 



ALIAS BROWN 



49 



Mrs. R. (^producing cardy Will you send my card up, 
please ? 

ViN. (ringing bell. Mont, frofit^. Take this card up to 
Mrs. Mortimer, in 45. [^Exii Mont., stairs l. 



(Mrs. R. crosses to l. E7iter Richie, d. r.) 



Richie. 
Mrs. R 



I (together). | ^^\ 



{She opens her arms, he rushes across to her, 
brace and kiss warmly.) 



They em- 



Richie. 

Mrs. R. 

Richie. 

Mrs. R. 

Richie. 
I saw you. 

Mrs. R. Tom, stand back. 
paces.) Now, walk over to me. 
your breath. {He does so.) 

(delightedly). You old darling, you're sober ! 
My dear, 1 haven't had a drink in all those weary 



Lord, but I'm glad to see you, little girl ! 

It's been six months since you kissed me. 
Six long, weary months. 

It seems like a year. 
I never realized how much I had missed you until 



(He steps back about four 
(He does so.) Let me smell 



Mrs. R. 
Richie. 
six months. 
Mrs. R. 
Richie. 
Mrs. R. 



Honestly ? 

Well, maybe one or two, but nothing to mention. 
Bless his old heart ! Kiss me again ! 

(They kiss.) 

Richie. Oh, what are we doing — what are we doing ? 

Mrs. R. Tom, what is it ? What is wrong ? 

Richie. I'm a cad, a despicable cad. I had forgotten. 

Mrs. R. Tom dear, what is it ? 

Richie. I have no right to kiss you ! 

Mrs. R. No right ! What do you mean ? 

Richie. The divorce ! 

Mrs. R. Yes, yes ! 

Richie, I got it day before yesterday. I had forgotten. 

Mrs. R. Then we are single again ? 

Richie. Yes. Forgive me for kissing you. 

Mrs. R. So that is why you are in Reno. I knew you 
were here but I had forgotten why. 

JRiCHiE. You know, I promised tp get the cjiyorc^, 



50 ALIAS BROWN 

Mrs. R. Yes, I remember now. You couldn't leave 
liquor alone, so we agreed to separate. 

Richie. Well, we're separated, all right. You'll forgive 
me for kissing you, won't you? I meant no disrespect. 

Mrs. R. It's all right, Tom. But it mustn't happen again. 

Richie. I suppose you'll marry again ? 

Mrs. R. I don't know, Tom. 

Richie. What are you doing here? 

Mrs. R. Mrs. Mortimer telegraphed me to come on impor- 
tant business. (Mrs. M. appears on balcony.') Ah, there she 
is now. Will you excuse me ? 

Richie. Certainly. {Crosses to d. r.) 

Mrs. R. Tom, you're going into the bar. 

Richie. Yes, I — I want a cigar. [Exity d. r. 

(Mrs. M. comes down stairs, l.) 

Mrs. M. Ah, my dear Alice, how do you do ? 
Mrs. R. Beatrice. 

{They kiss.) 

Mrs. M. Sit down, my dear girl. {They sit.) I see you 
received my telegram. 

Mrs. R. Yes, and I jumped on the next train. It seemed 
very importunate. 

Mrs. M. I wanted to see you at once. 

Mrs. R. Nothing is amiss, I hope ? 

Mrs. M. Yes, and no. I am in no serious trouble, but I 
need your help. 

Mrs. R. Rest assured, you shall have it. 

Mrs. M. I knew I could depend upon you. 

Mrs. R. Now, tell me all about it. 

Mrs. M. I am going to divorce Mortimer. 

Mrs. R. Divorce him ! I thought you were as happy as 
two little love bees. 

Mrs. M. We are, but my manager insists that it is neces- 
sary for the sake of advertising. 

Mrs. R. Oh, I see. 

Mrs. M. But first, have you gotten your papers yet ? 

Mrs. R. Day before yesterday. My husband secured 
them to save me the trouble. You know, I have been so 
busy. 

Mrs. M. That's fine. Things are working out splendidly. 

Mh§. R, You arouse ray curiosity, What is it ? 



ALIAS BROWN 



51 



Mrs. M. I want you to marry Mortimer. 

Mrs. R. Why, I don't know the man ! 

Mrs. M. That's why I wired for you. I want to introduce 
you. 

Mrs. R. This is rather sudden, Beatrice. You see 

Mrs. M. He is a splendid fellow, Alice, and I know you 
will like him. And he has been so nice to me about my 
divorce that I want to do something big for him, and you are 
the nicest girl I know. 

Mrs. R. But I'm not sure that I want to marry again. 

Mrs. M. You will when you meet Mortimer. He is an 
adorable man for a woman who can afford a husband. 

Mrs. R. But Tom was adorable too, when he was sober. 

Mrs. M. Which was ? 

Mrs. R. Seldom, I admit. But he has so many good 
traits that I will be apt to look for them in any other man I 
regard seriously. 

Mrs. M. You will find them in Mortimer. And, also, he 
has no vices. 

Mrs. R. Then he is not a man — he is an angel. 

Mrs. M. Won't you consider it, Alice ? 

Mrs. R. Let me see him first. Your proposition is so sud- 
den that I must have time to think it over. 

Mrs. M. That's right ; you should consider it carefully. 

Enter Mr. M., d. f. 

Mrs. R. But I do appreciate one thing, Beatrice, and that 
is your sweet thoughtfulness in remembering me. 

Mr. M. Good-morning, my dear. 

Mrs. M. Ah, here you are ! Mrs. What was your 

married name, dear ? 

Mrs. R. Richie. 

Mrs. M. Mrs. Richie, I want you to meet Mr. Mortimer. 
Mortimer, this is the girl I told you I had wired for. I hope 
you two will become very good friends. 

Mr. M. So do I— for your sake {looking at Mrs. R. with 
an admiring sigh) and for my own as well. 

Mrs. M. Now, you two talk things over. I have some 
packing to do. [Exit up stairs, l. 

Mr. M. {manifesting great admiration). Mrs. Richie, shall 
we sit on the piazza or stroll on the hotel grounds? This 
morning air is delightfully cool and pleasant. 



52 Alias brown 

Mrs. R. Perhaps it would be nicer. It is very close and 
stuffy in here. \_They exeunt ^ d. f. 

Enter La Rue, d. f. 

La Rue. Good-morning, Allgood. 

ViN. Good-morning, La Rue. 

La Rue. Say, has that Keeler party showed up here yet ? 

(Mary comes down stairs and sits at her desk.) 

ViN. Not yet. There was only one arrival this morning, 
and that was a woman. 

La Rue. I guess he didn't come to Reno. Any news ? 
ViN. No. Everything's quiet. 

Enter Billy, d. f. 

Billy. Morning, everybody I 

Y ' !■ Good-morning, Billy. 

Billy. Got a story for me this morning ? 

ViN. Not a thing. 

Billy. You never do have. Have you. La Rue ? 

La Rue. Nothing yet, Billy. Call 'round at the office in 
a couple of hours. 

Billy. All right, I will. Have you found Keeler yet ? 

La Rue. No ; I guess he didn't come here. 

Billy. Then I'll give you a story for a change. 

La Rue. Good for you ! 

Billy. Keeler is in this hotel. 

ViN. He's not registered. 

Billy. I know ; not as Keeler, but he is here. 

La Rue. How do you know ? 

Billy. Met him last night. 

La Rue. What ! 

Billy. Yes. Was introduced to him. I don't know what 
name he is going under, but he was introduced as Keeler and 
acknowledged it. 

Enter Richie, d. r. 

La Rue (to Richie). Say, friend, have you seen a party 
this morning by the name of Keeler? 

Richie. Haven't seen him, but he's here. 
La Rue. Sure ? 



ALIAS BROWN 



53 



Richie. Yes, he's around somewhere. 

La Rue. Would you know him if you saw him ? 

Richie. Well, rather. 

La Rue. I wish you'd look around with me and point him 
out. 

Richie. Be glad to. Let's go outside. He may be on the 
verandah. \_Exeunt Richie and La Rue, d. f. 

Billy {crossing to Mary). Good-morning, Mary. 

Mary (shortly). Good-morning. 

Billy. My, but we're chilly this morning. What's the 
matter ? 

Mary. Nothing. 

Billy. You're like a barometer. Last night you stood for 
sunny weather — to-day, storms. 

Mary. Why did you tell La Rue that Keeler is here ? 

Billy. Because he asked me. 

Mary. He didn't ask you — you volunteered the informa- 
tion. Didn't I introduce you to Mr. Keeler last night ? 

Billy. Yes. 

Mary. That would indicate that he's my friend. 

Billy. Granted. 

Mary. Do you suppose I want my friends arrested ? 

Billy {in self-defefise). You two didn't seem overly cordial 
last night. 

Mary. Which would indicate that we are friends — with the 
barometer at stormy. People who are indifferent to each other 
are always polite. Billy, why did you tell La Rue that Mr. 
Keeler is here ? 

Billy. Because he asked me. 

Mary. Tell me the truth, Billy. 

Billy. Because 

Mary. The truth, Billy. You can't deceive me. 

Billy. I know I can't. No one can. I did it because I 
love you ! Last night, the minute we left the parlor, your gay- 
ety all disappeared in a flash. All evening long you were dis- 
traught, moody, melancholy. I knew then that it was on ac- 
count of Keeler, for no man you didn't care for could work 
upon you Hke that. I wanted him out of the way. 

Mary. And still you say you love me. 

Billy. He's a crook, Mary, or the police wouldn't be after 
him. 

Mary. That makes no difference. If you really loved me 
as you say you do, you would try to save him for my sake. 



54 ALIAS BROWN 

Billy. Mary, I'm not built that way 

Mary. I know you're not, now, and at last I understand 
why I have always mistrusted you. You've got a yellow streak, 
that's your weak spot. Billy, last night if you had asked me to 
marry you I think I would have said ^' Yes," for I was beside 
myself with disappointment in him. To-day I'm stronger, but 
I'm doubly disappointed, for I have lost what I thought was a 
friend in you. 

Billy. Mary ! 

Mary. It's all over, Billy. I can't trust you any more, and 
that is the basis of everything worth while. 

Billy. And this other fellow ? 

Mary. How I feel toward him doesn't concern you — but I 
don't mind telling you that that is all over, too. 

Billy. Mary ! 

Mary. Good-bye, Billy. [Exit into dining-room, l. 

{Exit Billy, d. f. Keel, comes down stairs, l. ; crosses 
to desk.) 

ViN. Good -morning, Mr. Brown. 

Keel. Good-morning. I wish you'd make out my bill. 

ViN. Going to leave us ? 

Keel. Yes ; I'm going over to the other hotel. 

ViN. I hope you are not dissatisfied. 

Keel. No, everything's all right, but I have some friends 
here who don't relish my society, and I'm going to give them a 
treat by leaving. 

ViN. That's too bad. 

Keel. I'm much obliged for your sympathy. 

ViN. My brother smoked that cigar last night. 

Keel, {indifferently). Yes? 

ViN. And he said it was fine — best he ever smoked. 

Keel. I'm glad he liked it. Here are some more ; they 
are all I have or I'd be more generous. {Throws cigars on 
desk.) I'll have to buy another box. 

ViN. I beg your pardon ? 

Keel. I mean I'll have to get another box from my sample 
case. 

ViN. Thank you, sir. 

Keel. Don't mention it. 

Enter Mr. «;^^ Mrs. 1-,. from dining-room, L. 
Mrs. L. My dear, if you'd only let me explain 



ALIAS BROWN 55 

Logan. You've done nothing but explain ever since we ar- 
rived here, and you have only succeeded in the more absolutely 
convincing me of your guilt. 

Mrs. L. Listen, dear 

Logan. I've listened until my head aches. Everywhere I 
go I see him — Brown — Brown. He sat right next to us at 
breakfast, the impertinent scoundrel — surreptitiously holding 
your hand, I have no doubt. 

Mrs. L. Jim, you are beside yourself. 

Logan. I've stood all of it I'm going to, I tell you ! He had 
the effrontery to speak to me as he left the table. 

Mrs. L. Why shouldn't he? 

Logan. Why — woman, you'll drive me mad ! 

Mrs. L. I've told you a million times I never saw that man 
until yesterday. 

Logan. Yes, and another million times wouldn't convince 
me. His name is Brown, he is a cigar drummer, and the first 
time I saw him he was holding your hand. 

Mrs. L. He was not ! 

Logan. That's a matter of opinion. 

Mrs. L. My opinion is as good as yours. 

Logan. Very well. I'll give you an opportunity to render 
an opinion of my upper cuts when I next meet this brazen 
philanderer, Brown. {Discovers Keel.) Ah, there you are ! 
{Pause. Keel, comes dowfi and faces him.) What did you 
mean by speaking to me in the dining-room? 

Keel. My democratic spirit. Sometimes I don't care who 
I speak to. 

Logan. Is your name Brown? 

Keel. No. 

Logan. Last night you said it was. 

Keel. I know, but I've changed my mind since then. 

Logan. Ah, ha, you are trying to escape the punishment 
that's due you, but it's no use. 

Keel. Now, see here. Desperate Desmond, listen to sense. 

Logan. Don't talk that way to me, sir. 

Keel. You started this conversation. 

Logan. Your name is Brown. 

Keel. Very well, if you insist. 

Logan. You are a cigar salesman. 

Keel, {forcing; cigar in Logan's mouth). Have a sample, 

Logan. If you do that again I'll shoot you ! 

Keel. I won't. That weis my last cigar, 



56 ALIAS BROWN 

Logan. You have been carrying on an intrigue with my 
wife. 

Keel, (^groivijig serious). Now, see here. This has gone 
far enough. You can talk to me as you hke, but if you have 
no respect for your wife — 1 have. 

Logan. Yes, and more. 

Keel. Silence ! I never saw the lady until yesterday, and 
I don't want another word from you. 
^ Logan. Of course you don't, you cur ! Take that ! 

{He strikes at Keel., who catches his wrists a?id holds them.') 

Mrs. L. Jim ! 

Efiier Mrs. 'B.from dining-room, l. 

Mrs. B. What is the matter ? What is all this loud talk 
about ? 

Logan. Mrs. Brown, come here ! 

(Mrs. B. crosses to the men.) 

Logan. Your husband has been 

Mrs. B. My husband ! 

Logan. Yes, he 

Mrs. B. That is not my husband ! 

(Keel, releases Logan.) 

Logan. What ! 

Mrs. B. I never saw that man before. 

(Logan turris to his wife, who turns away from him. He 
turns to Keel., who stands with his arms folded. 
Logan drops his head and creeps out, d. f.) 

Mrs. L. {turning to Mrs. B. supplicatingly). Mrs. Brown ! 

Mrs. B. {foldifig her arms). Don't talk to me. I believe 
you to be as guilty as he does. Remember, I am here for a 
divorce and you will be named as corespondent. 

{Exit into dinifig-rooom, l.) 

Keel, {offering his arm). Mrs. Logan, may I see you up 
stairs ? 

(Keel, and Mrs. L. start to l. As they do so Mary 
(.titers froni dining-ropm, l., and th^ three meet down l, 



ALIAS BROWN 57 

An almost wiper ceptible pause. Keel, looks at Mary, 
she holds her head high, chin in the air. Mrs. L. and 
Keel, go up stairs, arm in arm, a?id exit. Mary watches 
them for a moment, then crosses to r. a?id exits ^ D. f.) 

Enter Richie and Mr^. R., d. f. 

Mrs. R. Tom, I would like to know by what right you 
came out and almost bodily took me away from Mr. Mortimer. 

Richie. By right of my injured feelings. 

Mrs. R. Injured feelings ? 

Richie. Yes. You should show a little respect to the de- 
parted. We've been divorced only two days. 

Mrs. R. I was only talking to Mr. Mortimer. 

Richie. You were not. You were flirting with him I 

Mrs. R. Well, what if I was ? I like him. 

(Mrs. M. comes down stairs y l., and sits L.) 

Richie. You have no right to. 
Mrs. R. Why not ? 
Richie. So soon, I mean. 

Enter Mr. M. jauntily, d. f. 

Mr. M. Good-morning, Mr. Richie. 

{Smiles fatuously at Mrs. R.) 

Richie (shortly). How do you do ? 

(Mr. M. crosses and sits by his wife.) 

Mrs. M. Well, Mortimer, what do you think of her ? 

Mr. M. Bee, she's simply perfect ! 

Mrs. M. You like her ? 

Mr. M. Like her ! I'm wild about her ! Bee, this is 
positively the very nicest thing you ever did for me. 

Mrs. M. (dryly). I'm glad you appreciate it. 

Mr. M. She has the most expressive eyes I ever saw. 

Mrs. M. (with a touch of jealousy). I hadn't noticed. 

Mr. M. And her smile ! Did you ever see such a beauti- 
ful smile before ? 

Mrs. M. She has a very good dentist, I believe. 

Mr. M. I — of course, I'm going to miss you dreadfully; 
but I think she and I were just made for each other. 

Mrs. M. (acidly). How lovely. 



58 ALIAS BROWN 

Mr. M. Really, old lady, I can't tell you how 

Mrs. M. Old lady, indeed ! I'd have you understand 
I'm only five years older than she is. 

{They fall into an animated discussion.') 

Richie. What did Mrs. Mortimer want to see you about? 

Mrs. R. She's going to divorce Mortimer, you know. 

Richie. Is that so ? 

Mrs. R. And she wants me to marry him. 

Richie {with a very different expressioti). Is that so ! 

Mrs. R. What do you mean by that ? Don't you want to 
see me happy ? 

Richie (trying to cover'). Oh, yes, yes — yes — yes. 

Mrs. R. Really, I don't know why I am telling you this. 

Richie. Because you want to make me miserable. 

Mrs. R. Why, we are nothing to each other. 

Richie. Oh, no, no, of course not. But a man doesn't 
like to be forgotten so soon, even if he is divorced. 

{They talk aside, deeply ifiterested.) 

Mrs. M. What does she think of the idea? 

Mr. M. Well, to be perfectly frank, she didn't seem — 1 
wouldn't say she was wildly enthusiastic. (Mrs. M. sighs 
with relief.) Of course, she doesn't know me very well yet. 

Mrs. M. Don't you think that's rather in your favor? 

Mr. M. Still, we'll get acquainted fast enough when you 
are gone. 

Mrs. M. I have no doubt of that. 

Mr. M. Look at her now. See how her color comes and 
goes. 

Mrs. M. It's nothing to the way it goes when she retires. 

{They talk.) 

Richie. Do you really mean to say you like that fellow ? 
Mrs. R. (teasingly). Yes, really. 
Richie. And you are going to marry him ? 
Mrs. R. I didn't say so. 
Richie {eagerly). Then, you're not? 
Mrs. R. I didn't say that, either. 
Richie. What are you going to do ? 

Mrs. R. There's no telling what I'll do — when you have 
gone. {Runs up stage to r. c.) 



ALIAS BROWN 59 

Richie. Alice ! 

Mr. M. (f'isifig). Mrs. Richie ! Are you going out ? 

Mrs. R. {sweetly). Yes, Mr. Mortiaier. 

Mr. M. May 1 go with you ? 

Mrs. R. I should be delighted. 

(Mr. M. crosses to Mrs. R. They start out.) 

Mr. M. Do you know, in all my life, I don't think I ever 
before really cared [ They exeunt y D. f. 

Mrs. M. So you are Mr. Richie. 

Richie. Yes, ma'am. 

Mrs. M. I thought last night I had seen you before, but I 
couldn't remember where. It was at your wedding. 

Richie. It is remarkable that you remembered me at all. 
People hardly ever see the groom. 

Mrs. M. How do you think my husband and your wife 
will hit it off? 

Richie. Present appearances would indicate a perfect 
match. 

Mrs. M. {^ivith a sigh). I feel very old to-day. 

Richie. Yes, you look rather — I mean, I feel very dry. 
Will you have a 

Mrs. M. No, thank you. [Exit up stairs ^ L. 

Richie. Don't mention it. {^Exit, D. r. 

Mary efiters, d. f. Crosses to her desk down l. and sits, 
her elbows on the desk, her chin on her hands. Short 
pause. Keel, comes down stairs, L. 

Keel, {statiding at r. side of desk for a moment ; speaking 
like a spanked little boy). Mary. {Pause.) Mary. {Toys 
with a lock of her hair.) Mary. {She brushes his hand aivay 
without turfiifig her face.) Mary had a little lamb — and it 
turned out to be a little black sheep. {Pause.) Mary. Ah, 
Mary. {Cries like a kitten.) Meow. Meow. Meow. 

{Short pause. Makes sound like a puppy whifiifig.) 

Mary {sudde?ily breaking into a little laugh). Henry ! 

{Sets her face in a mask again.) 

Keel. That's better ; laugh. Laugh and the world laughs 
with you ; sweep and you wear out the broom. 



60 ALIAS BROWN 

Mary (trying hard ?iot to giggle). I'm not laughing be- 
cause I'm pleased with you. 

Keel. Laugh again, honey. Treat it all as a joke for just 
a moment, and listen. You feel pretty much cut up, I know, 
but you couldn't feel a tenth as badly as I do. {She rises.) 
Won't you listen ? 

Mary. Five minutes ago I saw you go up stairs with that 
woman on your arm. 

Keel. 1 know, and I can't explain that now. I can, but 
you wouldn't believe me. 

Mary. Then why do you insist that you are innocent ? 

Keel. Because 1 am. 

Mary. What were you doing with that woman ? 

Keel. You won't believe my Sacramento story? 

Mary. No. 

Keel. Why ? 

Mary. Because it is preposterous. 

Keel. If I brought proofs of my assertions, would you ac- 
cept them ? 

Mary. Of course. 

Keel. If, in proving that my story about the prize-fight 
were true, it would entail a jail sentence for me, when I was 
released, would you forgive me? 

Mary. Yes, if the other were not true. 

(Keel, crosses to r. c.) 

Keel. Mr. Allgood, have you seen La Rue this morning ? 

Mary {apprehe7isively). La Rue ! 

ViN. Yes, sir, just a few minutes ago. 

Keel. I'd like to see him. 

Mary. Henry, don't send for that man — I — I — believe 

. Enter La Rue, d. f. 

ViN. Mr. La Rue, there's a gentleman here wants to see 
you. 

La Rue. All right, 

{^Conies down to Keel. Mary covers her face.) 

Keel. Are you looking for a man by the name of Keeler ? 

La Rue. I sure am, friend. 

Keel. On what authority ? 

La Rue. Wire from the chief at Sacramento. 



ALIAS BROWN 6 1 

Keel. (Jooking at Mary ; pause). I'm your man. 

La Rue. Last night you told me your name was Brown. 

Keel. That was to avoid arrest. 

La Rue {astonished). Arrest ! 

Keel. Yes. 

La Rue. I have no warrant for you. 

Keel. Then why do you want 

La Rue {pulling out telegram). I have just had the sec- 
ond wire from the chief at Sacramento to locate you, if possible. 

Keel. There are no charges ? 

La Rue. Fifty cents. 

Keel. I mean against me ? 

La Rue. What are you talking about ? If you are Keeler, 
I want to congratulate you. 

Keel. Congratulate 

La Rue. The chief at Sacramento wires me to locate you 
and tell you that your great-uncle at Sacramento died last night 
and left you ^100,000.00. 

Keel, {in despair). And I hoped you would arrest me. 
But what about the prize-fight ? 

La Rue. What prize-fight ? 

Keel. At Sacramento. 

La Rue. Haven't heard anything about a prize-fight. 
Man, your good fortune has gone to your head. I'm going to 
wire Sacramento that I've found you and to send a nurse after 
you. \_Exitf D. F. 

Keel. Mary 

Mary. I have nothing to say to you, and you can say 
nothing that would possibly interest me. \^Exit up stairs ^ l. 

Enter Richie, d. r. 
Richie. Keeler, what do you think 



Keel. Don't talk to me now. I like you, Richie, and I'm 
going to lick the first man I meet in order to relieve myself. 

\_Exit, D. R. 
E7iter Mrs. R., d. f., running. 

Mrs. R. Tom, Tom, Tom, where are you ? 
Richie. Here I am, honey. What's the matter? 
Mrs. R. Put your arms around me ! Hold me close ! 
Richie. Why, honey ! 

Mrs. R. That man Mortimer tried to mnkf^ love to me — 
tried to — and he doesn't do it nearly so well as you do. 



62 ALIAS BROWN 

Richie. He did that ! I'll 



Mrs. R. No, no, don't do anything foolish. We've been 
a couple of idiots. Don't let's be any worse. 

Richie. Why, honey, what do you mean ? 

Mrs. R. Have you got the least, httle, wee, tiny bit of 
regard left for me ? 

Richie. Why, I love you, honey. I've always loved you. 

Mrs. R. Then let's get married again, and start all over. 
Oh, Tom, I love you, I do love you. I've missed you more 
than I ever dreamed I could. Drink yourself to death if you 
want to, but take me back. 

Richie. Honey ! 

Mrs. R. Yes, Tom? 

Richie. If you will — if you will try me once more, we'll 
start all over again, and there'll be no such word as booze in 
our dictionary. 

Mrs. R. You mean it ? 

Richie. If I don't mean it, may your love for me perish. 

Mrs. R. Tom ! Kiss me ! 

{They kiss.) 

Richie. Now, you dry those eyes, and come with me. 
Mrs. R. Where are we going ? 
Richie {leading her up to desk). Mr. Allgood. 
ViN. Yes, sir. 

Richie. Telephone for a minister — a marrying one — imme- 
diately. {To her.) We're going for a license. 

[They exeunt ^ d. f. 

{Exit ViN. Mrs. M. comes down stairSy l. Sits l. c. ; 
takes out vanity bag, removes mirror, looks at herself, 
shakes her h^ad and sighs.) 

Enter Mr. M., d. f. 

Mrs. M. Mortimer, I'm an old woman. 

Mr. M. You're nothing of the sort, my dear. 

Mrs. M. I never realized it until I saw you with Mrs. 
Richie. And, Mortimer, I'm what I never thought I was — 
I'm jealous. 

Mr. M. Then it must be that you care for me. 

Mrs. M. I thought marriage was only a business arrange- 
ment — a partnership — but it is more. How much more I never 
realized until this last half hour. 



ALIAS BROWN 63 

Mr. M. You mean you would miss me if we separated ? 
Mrs. M. More than I would care to admit. 

Mr. M. Then why separate? There are other managers 
beside Waters. Managers just as good. 
Mrs. M. Don't you want to marry her? 

Mr. M. Not if I can have you. 
Mrs. M. Kiss me. 

(^They kiss.) 
Enter Waters, d. f. 

Waters. What's this ! Kissing your own wife ! It's scan- 
dalous. 

Mrs. M. It's worse than that — we mean it. Mr. Waters, 
I wish to be released from our contract. 

Waters. What ! 

Mrs. M. I give you the usual notice. 

Waters. Why ? What's wrong now ? 

Mrs. M. Because I won't give Mortimer up for you or any 
other manager. 

Waters. Do you mean that ? 

Mrs. M. I most certainly do ! 

Waters. Oh, you're not feeling well — you're blue. 

Mrs. M. I never felt better in my life. You are a single 
man, Mr. Waters, and you don't understand. 

Waters. I certainly don't. This decision of yours is irrev- 
ocable ? 

Mrs. M. Absolutely ! 

Mr. M. Positively ! 

Waters. All right. But I don't want you to leave my 
management. We've been working together so long, I've got 
a little sentiment about it. I hate to give this up, but if you 
insist, we'll try some other advertising scheme. 

Mr. M. You will ? 

Waters. Sure. There's my hand. {Gives one hand to 
Mr. M., and the other to Mrs. M.) Now, let's go and get 
some breakfast. {They start toward dining-room, up 'L.') I 
have a scheme that ought to be pretty good. You see, it's this 
way \They exetint. 

Enter Mrs. L., stairs, l. Sits l. ^Mary's desk. Mrs. B. 
enters from dining-room. Sits R. 0/ Mary's desk. They 
turn and discover each other, throw their chins into the 



64 ALIAS BROWN 

air, and turn their backs to each other. During this busi- 
ness ViN. enters and goes behind counter y and Keel, en- 
ters D. R., and crosses to desk. 

Keel. Allgood, have you a time table ? 
ViN. Yes, sir. {Hands him one.') When are you leaving ? 
Keel. First train I can get. Your climate doesn't agree 
with me. 

ViN, Where are you going ? 

Keel. Search me. 

ViN. I beg your pardon. 

Keel. I don't know — and I don't care. 

Enter John Brown, d. f. Mary appears on balcony, starts 
down stairs, overhears conversation, stands about half- 
way up, and listens. 

Brown. Is Mrs. John Brown registered here ? 

Vin. Yes, sir. 

Brown. I am her husband. Page her. Never mind. I 
see her. ( Crosses to Mrs. B.) My dear 

Mrs. B. Don't you " My dear " me ! 

Brown {taki?ig e?ivelope from his coat pocket). What's the 
meaning of this note you sent me? 

Mrs. B. {pointing to Mrs. L.). Ask her. 

Brown. How do you do, Mrs. Logan ? Sorry I didn't get 
around to see you before I left, but the firm sent me out in a 
hurry. 

Mrs. B. (rising). Before my very eyes! This is too 
much ! 

Brown. Where are you going, my dear ? 

Mrs. B. Out of this fulsome air of intrigue. 

Brown {positively). You — are — not ! You are going to 
tell me why you sent this note, threatening divorce. I would 
have been here yesterday, but I fell asleep on the train and was 
carried by. 

Enter Logan, d. f. He crosses to r. c. 

Mrs. B. You have been carrying on an affair with this 
Mrs. Logan. {Points disdaif fully.) 

Brown. With Marie Logan ! What nonsense ! Why, we 
went to school together. 1 used to wash her face in the snow. 

Mrs. B. {prodNcing note and handing it to him). Then ex- 
plain this note — if you can. 



ALIAS BROWN 65 

Brown. I never saw that before. 

Mrs. B. For a very good reason. Mr. Logan got hold of 
the original, sent me a copy, and is himself here for a divorce. 

Brown. Well, he's a bigger fool than I thought he was. 
Now, I'll show yon the first note she sent mt. Fortunately I 
have it. (JFumbles in Jus satchel.') Here it is. Read that. 

{Hands her the note.) 

Mrs. B. {reading). "Dear Mr. Brown: Next Friday is 
our first wedding anniversary. I want to buy Jamee a smoking 
sot in commemoration. Will you please bring an assortment 
up some afternoon when he is at the office, that I raay make a 
selection?" 

Brown. Now, there's your divorce evidenco. What are 
you going to do ? 

Mrs. B. I'm a silly old fool. Mrs. Logan, will you, can 
you forgive me ? 

Brown. Now, that's all nonsense. Judging by the varied 
assortment of cheap expressions around here, I rather fancy 
you've all been behaving like a lot of kids. {Turns to Logan.) 
Is your name Logan ? 

Logan {sheepishly). Yes, sir. 

Brown. I thought so. You look like the kind of a man 
who would make this sort of an exhibition of yourself. 

Logan. Marie, will you — can you 

Brown. Cut that out, Logan. You have all no doubt said 
things you should never be forgiven for. But you all meant 
well, because you loved each other. Now, take my advice, say 
nothing more about it, kiss and forg-et it. Ready : Logan, kiss 
your wife. (Logan does so.) Now, my dear, kiss me. {She 
does so.) Now, everything's settled, so far as you are con- 
cerned, and I'm free to look for the sun of a gun who stole my 
cards on the train ! 

Mrs. B. a thief? 

Brown. Yes; a gentleman thief, too. I wouldn't have be- 
lieved it of him. He looked as innocent as a fresh laid ^gg. 
And he took them, every one. 

Keel, {coming down and holding out cards). Here's the 
most of them, sir. If you will let me buy you a drink I can 
explain 

Brown. A drink ! You go to thunder ! I want satisfac- 
tion, and I'm going to have it. Then over to the police for a 
cheap thief you go. {JRolls up his shcvis,) 



66 ALIAS BROWN 

Mary (^from the stairs'). Mr. Brown ! 

Brown. How do you do, miss ? 

Marv. I've never met you, but I'm going to ask a favor of 
you. Let him go. It was only a joke, and he will never do it 
again; will you, Henry? 

Keel, {j-ushing up stairs to her). Never, so long as I live. 

Brown. But that's — that's not the point. 

Mary. You have pleaded leniency for the others. Let me 
plead leniency for him. Do as you would be done by. 

Brown. Very well, miss ; to accommodate a lady, I will. 
But if I ever catch him at it again 

Keel. You never will, sir, I assure you. 

(Keel, puts his arm aroufid Mary and they smile happily 
at each other.) 

Enter Richie and Mrs. R., d. f., arm in arm. 

Richie {waving license). We've got it ! We've got the 
license. We're going to be married ! Allgood, what about 
that parson ? 

Keel. Mary, will you marry me ? 

Mary. Yes. 

Keel. Now ? 

Mary. If you wish. 

Keel. Allgood, make it two parsons. 

Vin. {coming down). I'm sorry to disappoint you, but 
I've telephoned all over the city, and there's not a minister in 
Reno who is familiar with the wedding service. 



CURTAIN 



New Plays 



LOST— A CHAPERON 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Courtney Bruerton and W. S. Mauhby 

Six male, nine female characters. Costumes modern ; scenery, an in- 
ferior and an easy exterior. Plays a full evening. An excellent comedy 
with the true college atmosphere but with its scenes away from actual col- 
lege life. A breezy lot of college girls in camp lose their chaperon for 
twenty-four hours, and are provided by a camp of college boys across the 
lake with plenty of excitement. The parts are all good and of almost 
equal opportunity, the situations are very funny and the lines full of laughs. 
This is sure to be liked by the young people for whom it is intended, and 
is strongly recommended for high-school performance. PricCy 2^ cents. 

CHARACTERS 

George Higgins, a Tuffs A. B. . . . Ernest S. Swenson 

Jack Abbott, \ Tuff s sub-freshmen, ca77i^- Stanley M. Brown 

Fred Lawton, I ing with Higgins . . Arthur J. Anderson 

Raymond Fitzhenry, a Harvard student Arthur T. Hale 

Dick Norton, ) ^r z;-// -. Ernest A. Larrabee 

Tom Crosby, } '•^-^'" ^««^^^^^^ • ' Ferdinand Bryham 
Marjorie Tyndall, George s cousin: a 

Smith girl Helen J. Martin 

Alice Bennett, \ Dorothy F. Entwistle 

Agnes Arabella Bates, I ay t • 7 Edith H. Bradford 

Ruth French, f J^^^f^^on gins Marjorie L. Henry 

Blanche Westcott, J Beatrice L. Davis 
Mrs. Higgins, the chaperon. George s 

mother Effie M. Ritchie 

Mrs. Sparrow, a farmer s wife. [Not in the original cast.) 

mInS,}^^''^-.^^^-^- 

SYNOPSIS 
Act L— The Girls* Camp at Sherwood, 7 A. M. 
Act n.— The Fellows' Camp at Sherwood, 8 A. M. 
Act hi. — Same as Act I, 10 a. m. 

A BRIDE FROM HOME 

A Vaudeville Sketch in One Act 

By Willis Steell 
Two male, two female characters. Costumes modern ; scene, an in" 
terior. Plays twenty minutes. A capital sketch of Hebrew life and 
character, combining good comedy with genuine pathos. Moves very 
swiftly and is very effective. Can be strongly recommended for either 
vaudeville use or for amateur theatricals. Price^ 1^ cents. 



New plays 



RED ACRE FARM 

A Rural Comedy Drama in Three Acts 

By Gordan V, May 

Author of *' Bar Haven,'' ''At Random Run' ^ etc. 

Seven reaves, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, oae interior, 

one exterior. Plays two hours. An easy and entertaining play with a 

well-balanced cast of oliaracters. The story is strong and sympathetic and 

the comedy elemeat varied and amusing. Barnaby Strutt is a great parrt 

for a good comedian ; " Junior " a close second. Strongly reconmiended. 

Price, 2 J cents 

CHARACTERS 
JosiAH Armstrong, the owner of Red Acre Farm. 
Colonel Barnaby Strutt, "Crawling Codwolloper^'* 
Jonah Jones, a farm helper. 
Squire Harcourt, who holds a mortgage, 
Harry Harcourt, his profligate son. 
Dick Randall, who seeks his fortune. 
Tom Busby, a traveling merchant. 
Amanda Armstrong, Josians wife. 
Nellie Armstrong, driven from home. 
Laura Armstrong, a poor, weak sinner. 
Mrs. Barnaby Ss'rutt, tke ColoneV s ivife. 
** Junior," adopted daughter of the Si*'utts. 

SYNOPSIS 
Act I. — Living-room of Armstrong's home. Spring. 
Act IL — Garden in front of Armstrong's home. Summere 
Act HL — Same as Act L Winter. 

THE SPEED LIMIT 

A Sketch in Two Sceaes 
By Ernest M. Gould 
Five males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, unnecessary. Plays twenty 
minutes. A good-natured and effective skit on automobiling, very funny 
and very easy to get up. It requires no scenery or stage, but can be done 
on a platform just as weH. Its fun is extravagant, but it is otherwise 
suited for school perforntance. Price, 13 cents 

" WILLIAM " 

A Farce in One Act 
By W. C. Parker 

Two males, two females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. 
Plays twenty minutes. A brisk little piece of the vaudeville order, easjf 
and full of laughs. All three parts are good ; strongly recommended 

Prict. ^ f cents 



J\. yj. Pinero's Plays 

Price, 50 gents Cacb 



Min TH ANNFI ^^^^ ^^ ^°^^ ^*'*^- ^^* males, five females. 
"**»-'">'**•"■*' *'*^" Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. 
Plays two and a half hours. 



THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITH ?jr' '^.^h"! 

males, five females. Costumes, modem; scenery, all interiors. 
Plays a full evening. 

THF PPHPIIfATF Play in Four Acts. Seven males, five 
mu riVV/rLilU/lli:i females. Scenery, three interiors, rather 
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THF QrUnni MIQTPCQQ Faroe in Three Acts. Nine males, 
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THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY |iJJ.'"^a°S,^SV, 

females. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a 
full evening. 

QWFFT I AVFNriFP Comedy in Three Acts. Seven male«, 
OTiLtMUl LiAYlJl^UlJfV four females. Scene, a single interior, 
costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

TU17 TUITMnrDDm T Comedy in Four Acts. Ten males, 
ini:. inUrNUnKDULl nine females. Scenery, three interi- 
ors ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening, 

THF TIMF^ Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven female*. 



a full evening. 



Jingle interior ; costumes, modern. Plays 



THF WFAITFP QFY Comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, 
ini:i TT£ii\IVCiIV DCtA. eight females. Costumes, modern; 
scenery, two interiors. Plays a full evening. 

A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE ?re'^i,i?,r?:mi;:;; 

Costumes, modern; loene, a single Interior. Plays a full evening. 



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■H 

015 793 058 8 



TUP AWAFPNINIi I*^y ^^ ^our Acts. By C. H. Chambkbs, 
llli; ATTAALillilU Four males, elx females. Scenery, not diffi- 
cult, chiefly interiors ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 
Price, 60 Cents. 



THE FRDITS OF ENUiSTENMENT 



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Comedy in Four Acts. 

By L. TOLSTOI. Twenty- 
one males, eleven females. Scenery, characteristic interiors ; cos- 
tumes, modern. Plays a full evening. Recommended for reading 
clubs. Price, 25 Cents. 

HIS EXCELLENCY THE fiOYERNOR l"tlt^l^r.t''\U 

males, three females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, one Interior. 
Acting rights reserved. Time, a full evening. Price, 60 Cents. 

AV inn if HFCnAVfl comedy in Four Acts. By Oscak "Wilde. 
AH llfCALf UUJDAnll Nine males, six females. Costumes, mod- 
em ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. Acting rights 
reeeryed. sold for reading. Price, 60 Cents. 

Farce In Three 
Acts. By OscAB 
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interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. Acting rights re- 
served. Price, 60 Cents. 

LADY WINDERMERE'S FAN ^TSlZ'^sIZtlL.^Zi?!''^ 

males. Costumes, modem ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full 
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NATHAN HAIP I*lay in Four Acts. By Clyde Fitoh. Fifteen 
ilAillAi^ HALili males, four females. Costumes of the eighteenth 
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ing rights reserved- Plays a full evening. Price, 60 Cents. 

THP iftTHPD PFTTHW Comedy In Three Acts. ByM.B.HoBinB. 
IIIC UlUCn rCLrl^VYT six males, four females. Scenery, two 
interiors ; costumes, modem. Professional stage rights reserved. 
Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

Comedy in Four Acts. By C. H. 

Chambers. Four males, three fe- 
males. Scenery, an interior and an exterior; costiunes, modem. 
Acting rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 60 Cents. 

A WOMAN OF NO IMPORTANCE ^fl^l^fj^kt^l'^.^. 

seven females. Costumes, modem ; scenery, three interiors and an 
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reading only. Price, 60 Cents. 



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